Bigotry Doesn’t Have A Nice Ring To It

, , , , , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(We are a gay couple. My husband gave me a ring for my birthday. It apparently cost a lot, but after only a day of wearing it I notice my skin going green, a classic sign that the metal is cheap. My husband can’t explain it, but gives me the receipt to exchange it. I am seen by the store owner.)

Me: “Yes, I’d like to return this ring. My husband was told it was pure metal, but my finger tells me otherwise.”

(The owner takes the receipt and inspects the ring. I can tell there’s something wrong by his expression.)

Owner: “This ring doesn’t match the description. Are you sure he got it from here?”

Me: “I’m 100% certain. Your store name is embossed on the rim.”

Owner: “Yes, I can see. Give me a moment, please.”

(He disappears for about quarter of an hour and returns with a ledger.)

Owner: “Yes, your husband’s name is here with the same description on the receipt. I’ve checked the footage for the time and he was indeed sold this ring. However, this ring is worth a significant fraction of the price.”

Me: “What can you do, then?”

Owner: “Give me another moment, please. I want to be certain this is straightened out. [Worker] is in today; she served your husband.”

(The owner calls her over.)

Owner: “[Worker], did you sell this ring in exchange of [expensive ring] to a gentleman two weeks ago?”

Worker: “I don’t know. I’ve never see him before though.” *nods to me*

Me: “He has shoulder length black hair and a nose ring.”

Worker: “Oh, the [homophobic slur]. Yes, I did.”

(Both the owner and I wince at the word.)

Owner: “[Worker]! Why would you do such a thing?”

Worker: “Because marriage is between a man and a woman. Their [slur] marriage is fake and cheap, so that’s all they deserve!”

(I’m actually stunned at how blunt the woman is. The owner addresses me.)

Owner: “I am so sorry for this. My store does not discriminate under any circumstances, and I assure you this matter will be dealt with, with extreme severity.” *to the worker* “Go to my office. We’ll talk later.” *back to me* “The original cost your husband paid was [amount], but given the circumstances, I would like to offer you a choice of anything in store, as compensation.”

Me: “Well… No, thank you. I’ll be more than happy with a ring at equivalent price.”

Owner: “Then, perhaps a paired ring to go with whatever you choose?”

(I picked out two rings and headed home with them. My husband was more than a little shocked with what happened, but we were both happy with the compromise. The woman was fired from the jewellery store, but she now works in a café across town. We don’t go in.)

Wines And Dines On Your Dimes

, , , , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(My wife and I are having dinner at a restaurant. While we both order at the same time, my wife receives her food while I receive nothing. We continually call our waitress down to find out what is happening, and she insists it is being taken care of. Because I don’t want my wife to wait, I let her finish. After an hour and a half, our waitress comes with our bill.)

Waitress: “I hope you have enjoyed your meal.” *walking away*

Me: “Hold on.” *looking at the bill and seeing my order and a substantial tip* “Where is my order?”

Waitress: “Your order? Well, surely you’ve eaten it.”

Wife: “No, he hasn’t.”

Waitress: “I distinctly remember bringing it out to you. If you could just please pay the bill at the front, thank you.”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. Could I please see the manager?”

(The waitress brings the manager and I explain the situation.)

Manager: “Well, this is the most ridiculous scam I’ve ever heard. Do you seriously expect me to believe it?”

Me: “Does it look like I’ve eaten?” *gesturing to my side of the table, which has been left virtually untouched since it was laid out* “I haven’t even been given my wine!”

Manager: “Well, it certainly does. Please excuse me for a moment.”

(The manager goes into the kitchen and I hear a loud clattering of pans and someone screaming, “WHAT, AGAIN?” The door bursts open, and a large man storms up to me. I’m secretly praying for my life, as I’m expecting to him to send me to Hell, but as he approaches the table he turns and faces our waitress.)

Chef: “All right, what did you do with it?”

Waitress: *blushing* “I don’t know what you mean!”

Chef: “Really?” *sniffs at her mouth* “You stink of merlot.”

(That’s the wine I ordered. Our waitress covers her mouth while the chef walks to the waiting station and starts tearing it apart. He comes back with a plate of a partially-consumed meal.)

Chef: “Sir, could I please ask what you ordered?”

(I show him the receipt.)

Chef: *to the waitress* “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is unacceptable. You’re fired.”

Waitress: “YOU CAN’T FIRE ME! MY DADDY’S THE MANAGER!”

Chef: “Really? Well, let me introduce you to the owner: me. You–” *to another waiter* “–take this gentleman’s order again, and everything is free of charge. I’ll get ‘daddy’ to take her home.”

(Our entire meal was free, and although I didn’t eat in the restaurant, we were given it to go. The restaurant lost two staff that night: the manager and his daughter. We were offered free meals there in the future, but sadly, we moved out of the city a couple of months later and never ate there again. This was the first and last time something like this had ever happened to us.)

A Touching Story

, , , , , , , | Related | November 16, 2017

(I am trying to teach my five-year-old daughter about danger. Not the details, but just what to do if this happens, what to do if that happens, etc. I tell her that if someone touches her when or where she doesn’t want to be touched, she has to yell, “STOP! I don’t like it!” and tell me. She seems to understand fairly well, and two days later my mum comes to visit. I go into the kitchen to make us tea and suddenly I hear, “STOP! I don’t like it!” and my daughter comes running in.)

Me: “What happened, baby?”

Daughter: “Granny hugged me ‘hello’ when I came downstairs, and I didn’t want her to.”

(Mortified, I run in to my mum, who is in stitches on the sofa.)

Mum: “Well, [My Name], I can’t fault your skills at teaching her safety. But maybe next time I’ll ask before I hug her!”

Unfiltered Story #100018

| Unfiltered | November 16, 2017

(We’re in a biology lesson about cloning)
Student: Could you give birth to yourself?

Tell Her Where You Can Stuff That Penguin

, , , , , | Friendly | November 15, 2017

(I am a bystander to this lovely scene in December. Christmas is fast approaching and, as such, most shops have put out tempting displays near the checkouts to fool us all into buying things we neither need nor want. I am waiting in line with my trolley when a man and his daughter join the line behind me. The daughter, about eight years old, spies the stuffed penguin toys.)

Daughter: “Oh, look, Daddy! Penguins!”

Dad: “Yes, they’re very nice.”

Daughter: “Can I have one?”

Dad: “No.”

Daughter: “But they’re so sweet! Please?”

Dad: “I said no.”

Daughter: “Pleeease? I’ll look after it!”

Dad: “You already have a bear in the trolley. You don’t need another toy. You can either put the bear back and have the penguin, or keep the bear on its own.”

Daughter: “But I want both of them! I’ll take care of them!”

Dad: *seriously annoyed now* “I said no. Pick one now or you don’t get either.”

Daughter: “But Dad! I’ll take really good care of them both!” *begins annoying whiny tactics of attrition, including deliberate sobbing*

(At this point, a middle-aged woman has joined the next queue over. To my horror, she leans over and says:)

Interfering Woman: “Oh, that penguin needs to go to a good home, doesn’t he?”

Daughter: “Yes!” *sensing an ally, her tears immediately dry up*

Dad: *gritting his teeth* “I’m sure all these penguins will go to a good home. Our home’s a bit full, isn’t it, [Daughter]? What with all the toys you already have?”

Interfering Woman: *talking to daughter* “Oh, but this penguin would be much happier with you, wouldn’t it?”

Daughter: “Yes!”

Interfering Woman: “Don’t listen to Daddy; he’s being mean! I bet Mr. Penguin would love to come home with you!”

Dad: *somehow barely keeping his temper* “She has lots of toys already.”

Interfering Woman: “But she wants this one! Don’t you? Daddies are so mean, aren’t they?”

(Around this point I had reached the cashier, and I paid for my groceries as swiftly as possible, and got the h*** out of there. A tense silence had befallen everyone within hearing distance who wasn’t directly involved. I sometimes remember the whole scene, and try to think of ways I could’ve shut that woman up without causing a violent ruckus, but I’m at a loss. As a parent, I would’ve bought a penguin, put both the penguin and the bear in the charity box on the way out, and given my daughter a hearty talking to when we got home. She really was the most whiny child of her age I’ve ever heard. As a bystander, I honestly couldn’t think of anything sensible to do.)

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