(Because I walk to work, if it gets too cold or there’s too much snow, they’ll call me and tell me not to come in, and I can come in early or stay late the next day to make up the hours.)

Manager: “Hey, [My Name], just letting you know we won’t need you tonight, but you can come in at 11 tomorrow if you want.”

Me: “Would it be possible for me to stay late instead? I’m babysitting in the morning and I don’t think I’ll make it there by 11.”

Manager: “Can you try and make it by noon?”

Me: “I’ll see what I can do. If it’s another snow day for the schools I don’t think I can, but I’ll call by 11 tomorrow and let you know.”

(The next day rolls around and sure enough, the schools get a snow day so I can’t make it in by noon. I call at 10:30.)

Me: “…so I’ll be in at my scheduled time today, not any earlier, but I can stay late if you need me to.”

Manager: “But this isn’t enough notice! You have to call three hours before you’re scheduled. A lot of people called out today because of the snow. I need you to come in. Get here by noon or I’m writing you up!”

Me: “But—”

Manager: “GET HERE OR YOU’RE FIRED!”

(I called her boss and explained the situation, and was told that technically, because it was so cold, I should have been told not to come in at all!)

(I walked out of the dressing room and couldn’t find my friends to show off my outfit.)

Dressing Room Attendant: *in a heavy accent* “I like that top but the skirt is too short. Makes you look a little like fancy prostitute. Don’t buy it.”

Me: “Umm, this is my skirt…”

(I’m in the boss’ office discussing some issues. While I’m there, the boss’ phone rings. I only hear his half of the conversation.)

Boss: “…no, don’t even go there. It’s July now and that will be in September. What’s the use talking about it? It’s like talking about going to bed with Claudia Schiffer.”

Me: “Er, no, boss. September is going to happen eventually.”

(He cracked up at that and had to end the call…)

(The small town I grew up in has a week-long fair every year. Even after moving away in high school, I sometimes go with friends for a day. This exchange happens with a rather old man who is running one of the attractions. I’m wearing a shirt I bought on a recent trip to Florida.)

Carny: *noticing my shirt* “So you went to Orlando, eh? How was it?”

Me: “It was a lot of fun. I got to go to Disney World, which was pretty awesome.”

Carny: “Say, you know there’s this place called [some street in Orlando] where you can find women EVERYWHERE! I mean, you drive down there and they’re just waiting around for guys like us, if you know what I mean!”

(This goes on for a minute or two, with the man telling me just how promiscuous the women are in that part of town, ending with:)

Carny: “So, you’re… what? A sophomore in college, I’m guessing?”

Me: “Actually, I’m a junior in high school…”

(Strangely enough, he didn’t make eye contact with me at all after that.)

(As part of receiving my state-run unemployment insurance I have to attend seminars on finding work. On one occasion, I’m in one where the topic of interview dress is mentioned.)

Lecturer: “So, it really doesn’t matter about your experience, or whatever, just so long as you dress up for an interview. Now, we at [Government Department] support a charity group that can supply a nice dress or business suit for you ladies applying for a job – up to $1000 dollars worth of clothes for free! So, if you need to have something for an interview, then just apply!”

Me:” What about men?”

Lecturer: *pauses* “What about men?”

Me:“Is there a similar scheme for men?”

Lecturer: *confused* “I don’t get what you mean?”

Me: “Well, is there a group supplying suits and ties and such for men to attend interviews in?”

Lecturer: “Umm… why?”

Me: “Well, guys might not have suits to go to interviews in either.”

Lecturer: “Oh, no, mate, that’s your mistake there! A man doesn’t need a suit for an interview! Look, just turn up in your overalls and boots and stuff to an interview. That shows you’re all ready to start the job! Trust me, mate, you’ll ace the next interview if you do that!”

(Given that I work in the scientific field, namely laboratory bench-work in the food industry, I doubted this but kept my mouth shut.)