(I’m a female in my twenties. After having my car break down for the fourth time in the first year of owning it, I’m shopping for a replacement. I’ve done a great deal of research, and have narrowed it down to a few models. This is what happens at the first dealership I go to.)

Me: “Um, hello?”

Sales Guy: “Yeah?”

Me: “I’d like to look at that 626 you have in your lot.”

Sales Guy: “So go look at it.”

Me: “Okay, when I say look at it, I mean I’d like to test drive it.”

Sales Guy: *laughs* “I think that would be a waste of time.”

Me: “I beg your pardon? Why is that?”

Sales Guy: “Well, because you clearly aren’t going to buy a car.”

Me: “…Well, not from you, not from here, not anymore. Guess this explains why I’m the only customer in here. Bye.”

(Now this is what happens at the second dealership I go to.)

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Hi there! What can we find for you today?”

Me: “I’m looking for a used Legacy or Impreza. Do you have either of those models?”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Oh! Hey, sorry, I don’t think we do… not used. Let me show you this new [completely different make and model], though!”

Me: “Ah, no, I’m sorry. I want a used car that’s affordable and has a proven consumer report record. I did a lot of homework on this, and I’m looking for a select few models. I have a list here.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Okay! Well, let’s go look around the used lot and see if anything there strikes your fancy.”

(We look through the lot, but none of the cars I want are on it. I let him know that I don’t want to waste his time if there’s nothing from my list available.)

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Well, are you sure? This car is very pretty.”

Me: “No, thanks. My last car was pretty. Didn’t keep it from being a lemon.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “Well, hey, so what would it take to get you into a car today?”

Me: “Having a car I wanted to buy would be a good start.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “But this car is so pretty!”

Me: “No. I’m not looking for pretty.”

Enthusiastic Sales Guy: “You should be!”

Me: “I’m leaving now.”

(It took two weeks, but I finally found a dealership that had what I wanted and didn’t talk down to me. My car has lasted me eight years with very few problems.)

(I have just finished giving a wine tasting to a very nice African American couple, who then goes on to purchase two cases. They love the wine so much they buy a postcard and write a nice note to me and the owner saying how much they enjoyed their experience. As the couple gets into their car to leave, the owner returns from an errand and walks up to me.)

Owner: “Anything good while I was gone?”

Me: “Yup, had two couples come in. I sold two cases to one of them.”

Owner: “Oh, fantastic.”

Me: “And! The couple that just left  were so impressed they bought a postcard and wrote this nice note for the two of us. ”

(He reads the note, while I go grab a push-pin out of the office. We have a corkboard that we hang thank you letters and photos from customers up on.)

Me: “I’m going to go ahead and hang it up on the corkboard if—”

Owner: “NO. Throw it in the rubbish bin!”

Me: “…Pardon?”

Owner: “You heard me! I’m not putting up a half hearted thank you note from a bunch of n*****s who didn’t buy jack s***!”

Me: “You do realize that couple just spent nearly $400 on wine? They also bought the rest of our Cabernet.”

Owner: “…”

Me: “You didn’t see the two cases they loaded into their trunk?”

Owner: “But n*****s don’t have any money! Did they pay for it?”

Me: “Here’s the credit card receipt, and yes I did check his ID since the amount was over $50.”

Owner: “…”

Me: “Oh, and he’s bringing his Church group back this fall for a wine tasting.”

Owner: “Go f***ing mow the lawn or something!”

(I put my notice in that afternoon.)

(I am a dairy farmer and have just finished work early so I can go to town to buy my new ute (pickup truck). Because of the rush, I am still a bit on the smelly side, but clean.)

Me: “Hey, just wanting to look at a test drive of the new truck over there… the 2×4 diesel.”

Salesman: “Sorry, we don’t serve your kind here.”

Me: “Excuse me? What do you mean, ‘your kind?’”

Salesman: “Idiots like you that are just out for a joyride in a new car. Why don’t you get a job so you can afford to actually buy one?!”

Me: “Well, if that is your attitude, I can take my business elsewhere…”

(At this point, I leave the dealership, and head to another dealership across town where I test drove a new truck. SOLD, with my new wheels, I returned to the first dealer.)

Me: “Big mistake on your part, sir. Looks like you missed a sale.”

Salesman: *jaw drops*

(The next day, I called up the owner of the first dealership and reported the salesman’s behaviour. Looks like this was a common occurrence, and the salesman was fired pretty quickly. Now, due to business increases, I buy from the first dealer, but I get a pretty little discount on all sales. Looks like rudeness does pay off in the end, just not for the rude person!)

(There are two construction workers in my house to put down a wall. Worker #1 speaks French and English, but Worker #2 speaks only English. Note: I’m a female woodworker; also, my first language is french, but I’m perfectly bilingual.)

Worker #1: *in French* “I forgot the backsaw in the van. I’ll be back.”

Me: “Oh there’s no need to go back. I have one here.”

Worker #1: “What? You have a backsaw? And you’re a woman? Woah, we don’t see that often!”

(I point to the sliding miter saw in the corner of my living room)

Me: “Yeah, I have a few different saws here.”

(He pokes the shoulder of Worker #2 and points to me.)

Worker #1: *in English* “Hey, she’s a woodworker! Can you believe it? Seriously, look at her! I can’t believe she can even lift a plank of wood. Do you think she can use a power tool correctly? I mean, look at her miter saw; it’s as big as her. No way she can use this to craft anything. It would be better if she gave these tools to her boyfriend and focused on a real woman job!”

Me: *in English* “Just so you know, I’m bilingual. And for your information, I’m as capable as you to use power tools. I’m also sure my landlord didn’t send you here to belittle me, so would you please stop talking about me and go ahead with the job you’re paid for?”

Worker #1: “Uh… that’s not what I meant… I mean… uh… you look intelligent for a woman…”

(I began reading at the age of three and have always been a very advanced reader. This happens when I am in kindergarten. While my dad looks for books, I try and check out “Charlotte’s Web” with my own library card.)

Me: “I would like to check this book out please, ma’am.”

Librarian: “You can’t get that book! You’re not old enough. It’ll be too hard for you!”

Me: “But… I’ve already read the first chapter. I want to finish it.”

Librarian: “No! I can’t let you check that book out. You’ll just damage it or lose it.”

Me: *starts to cry*

(My dad finally comes over and asks me what’s wrong. Before I can say anything, the librarian interrupts.)

Librarian: “She was trying to check this book out and clearly it is too advanced for her!”

My Dad: “Did you even ask her if she could read it to you?”

Librarian: “Well, no! I don’t need to!”

My Dad: *to me* “Here, read this page.”

(I read the page almost perfectly, only stumbling over one word which I figure out in about three seconds.)

Librarian: *silently checks out book*

(Later, outside…)

My Dad: “Don’t worry honey, the same thing happened to me when I was your age…”