(My parents are farmers who do all of their livestock processing on-site. Since things normally slow down with our livestock during the winter, we use our state-certified processing facility to take on deer processing, where hunters who do not have the proper equipment to butcher the deer themselves will bring me their deer, which I butcher and package as specified by the hunter, for a fee. I run the deer processing. However, we do get a lot of calls from people wanting us to process their poultry as well. One day, I am lounging in the house with my boyfriend when our dogs herald the arrival of someone at the carport. My boyfriend goes out to see who it is and after a moment I hear an unfamiliar voice. Assuming it is a customer asking about our poultry or other services, I go outside to see if I can help the customer. I walk outside to see a man, probably in his late thirties, chatting with my boyfriend.)
Me: “Hello, sir. How can I help you?”
Customer: “I was wonderin’ if y’all can process my chickens.”
Me: “Yes, sir, we can. When would you need them processed?”
(I continue to ask him the basic questions and answer his but I notice that he keeps addressing my boyfriend with his questions and will hardly look at me.)
Customer: *addressing my boyfriend* “I saw y’all had a deer processing sign out here last year. I usually take my deer into [not-so-nearby town], but y’all are less than a mile from me.”
Me: *getting a bit irritated* “Yes, sir, that’s right. I run the deer processing.”
(I felt like I needed to add that last bit since he obviously thought my boyfriend knew more about the business, despite, prior to me stepping out, him telling the man that he did not know much about the business end of the farm. Turns out the guy used to live on the farm a while back — my parents purchased it three years ago — and, still addressing my boyfriend, starts to go on about all the hunting he’s done on the property.)
Customer: “I could give you some good tips on the best hunting spots!”
(My boyfriend does not hunt and has never fired a gun in his life.)
Me: “Well, my favorite spot is that back field. I got quite a few back there last year.”
Customer: *in disbelief* “A girl hunter! You don’t see that everyday.”
(Now, women hunting is not uncommon. What. So. Ever. Besides that, one would think that he would figure I hunt if I run the facility. Anyhow, the man continues asking questions about the facility, STILL ADDRESSING MY BOYFRIEND (who looked very uncomfortable). I was not sorry to see him leave. The real kicker is, the place where he was saying he took his deer was quite a ways away when, even before we opened our facility, there is a processing facility in the next town over. That facility is run by, you guessed it, a woman.)
