Category: Bigotry

Test-Driving Customers Away

| USA | Bigotry, Employees, Transportation

(I am a 22-year-old female from a family full of baby faces; we all look a bit younger than we really are. I am meeting a man to look at the used car he is selling, and I have brought my dad because I know very little about engines compared to him.)

Me: “May I take it for a test drive?”

Guy: “Uh, honey, do you have your license yet?”

Me: “Yes. I have been driving for six years.”

Guy: “Oh.”

(We go on the test drive. While I drive, the guy and my father have a conversation about cars that they like. We get back, and the guy continues to ignore me.)

Guy: *to my dad* “So, what are you looking to spend on her car?”

Dad: “Oh, no, this is all her money. I’m just along for the ride.”

Guy: *to me* “Sweetheart, is my car in your price range?”

(We left after that. His car was actually the cheapest one I looked at!)

Plasma Charged

| UT, USA | Bad Behavior, Bigotry, Bosses & Owners

(A few days prior to this, I had donated plasma. It’s similar to donating blood, but sometimes things go wrong when they return your cells to you, causing bruises. In my case, I have a hematoma that is close to three inches across due to a problem with the machine. Heading into the grocery store, in short sleeves due to the warm weather, I tromp around just picking up a few things I needed. As I’m doing this, I notice that a particular employee in a shirt and tie is following me around. Turning to look at him, I smile and greet him before heading off. I’ve picked up a couple sodas, some snacks, and noodles, when I turn to head up front. Picking a cashier, I start to check out, but notice that the girl’s taking a good bit longer than usual, trying to figure out prices and what not. It dawns on me then, based on my own prior experience in retail, that she’s stalling me. A few moments later, a pair of police officers enter the store, and talk to the man I saw earlier before turning and walking in my direction.)

Officer #1: “Sir, could we speak with you?”

Me: “Is something wrong?”

Officer #1: “We just need to speak with you, outside.”

Me: “Okay, let me pay for—“

Officer #1: “No, you need to come outside, sir.”

Me: “Going to explain to me why, or just be vague about it, Sergeant?”

Officer #1: “We don’t want to cause a scene here…”

Me: “No one is making a scene. I’m here shopping, about to pay, and wondering why the h*** you’ve been called.”

Manager: *the guy in the suit* “We don’t want your kind here! You need to leave.” *turning to the officers* “Make this leave!”

Me: “Woah, now, MY kind? What the h*** is that supposed to mean?”

Manager: *pointing at the bruise* “Addicts like you!”

(Looking to my arm, I chuckle and then hold up the card I was about to pay with. It’s a Visa card that the plasma places give you when you donate. They pay you for donations.)

Me: “Addict? Try plasma donor. However, if you don’t want me here, I’m certain that the officers will agree that if I pay, and then leave, that there’s no wrongdoing.”

(At this point the manager reaches out, grabbing my arm and pulling before giving me a hard shove, hard enough to knock over some displays as I stumble. Picking myself up, I look to the officers.)

Me: “You witnessed it. I was just assaulted. I wish to press charges.”

(The officers look to me, then back to the manager, reaching out to take him into custody. All the while he’s screaming about how they’re taking an addict’s side and not the right person. He was still yelling as I left, my bags in hand. Outside, the second officer noted that it probably would be a good idea if I avoided that store in future. Especially after plasma donations.)

Politically Incorrect

| Yorkshire, England, UK | Bigotry, Coworkers, Politics

(My dad used to volunteer for a political party that’s usually associated with middle-class and white-collar voters. Dad came from a working-class family but has a fairly ‘posh’ accent, so people in the party tended to think he was middle-class, too. He is just returning from doing door-to-door canvassing when he bumps into another volunteer.)

Volunteer: “How did it go?”

Dad: “I tried [Rough Council Estate] and [Affluent Area] today.”

Volunteer: *looking aghast* “You actually went to that estate?! Ugh, I’m surprised they didn’t try to mug you on the doorstop. I wouldn’t dare go there with all those teenage mothers and drug dealers and who-knows-what.”

Dad: “It honestly didn’t seem that bad.”

Volunteer: “No, no no. It’s not really safe on your own, and I doubt they’d even understand the campaign anyway. I don’t mean to be rude, but they aren’t especially intelligent.”

Dad: “Nobody wanted to support the campaign, but they were all quite polite about it.”

Volunteer: “Well, I find that rather hard to believe. People on those estates use such vulgar language, and they teach it to their children, too. It’s no wonder they grow up illiterate and going to state schools. Stop wasting your time there. I’m sure you had more luck in [Affluent Area]?”

Dad: *pleasantly* “Actually, the first house I visited was on your street. Mr [Volunteer], in the lovely five bedroom house? I distinctly remember him telling me to ‘get the f*** off my f****** property before I call the f****** police, you f****** t***.’ He tried to throw a shoe at me. It really took the wind out of my sails, so I thought I’d end things there for the day.”

Volunteer: *embarrassed* “Oh. Well. I suppose… these things… sometimes… happen. Perhaps it was a bad day? Um, I’m sure you’ll have better luck next time!” *rushes off*

Not So Pretty In Pink, Part 2

| ME, USA | Bigotry, Employees

(My local retail store organizes the toys into baby/toddler, girls, boys. My daughter is nearly two years old, and I start shopping for birthday presents and Christmas presents in October. I try to find ones she’ll like; as a result I go into the toys for boys to find a bag of blocks in bold colors and happen to let it slip they’re for my daughter.)

Me: “Oh, finally.” *grabs the bag* “She’ll love these!”

Worker: “’She’ll’?”

Me: “Hmm? Oh, yes, they’re for my daughter. She loves bold colors, plus I can use them to teach her colors.”

Worker: “Don’t you think you should get the girls’ version then?”

Me: “There’s not really a difference in the three versions other than colors.”

Worker: “But the girls get more colors!”

Me: “She would prefer these.”

Worker: “No, she wouldn’t.”

Me: “I think I would know my own daughter. I’ll get these for her.”

(I put the bag of blocks in the front of the cart, where you would sit your child as I have a feeling if I put them in the back the worker would snatch them.)

Worker: “No! She needs the GIRL version!”

Me: “Lady, she plays with the SAME blocks at my in-laws and no one gives a damn! If my daughter clearly don’t care what the gender is for toys, why the hell should she care what the gender is for THESE?”

Worker: “It’s not right!” *she stamped, yes STAMPED her feet like a child after this until other people peered into the aisle to see what was up*

Me: “Fine. Go put on a pink vest.”

Worker: “Why?!”

Me: “Blue is for boys! Gosh don’t you know?!”

Worker: “Blue looks just fine on me!”

Me: “But it’s for boys! You should probably also wear pink and purple and pastel EVERYTHING!”

Worker: “I like darker colors!”

Me: “Well, so does my nearly two-year-old daughter. Actually the bolder the better. This way she’ll learn red, blue, yellow, green.”

Worker: “But she’s a GIRL!”

Me: “Trust me, I’m aware of that. I changed multiple diapers by now and have given her a bath.”

(Unbeknownst to me, one of the customers that was behind me had flagged down a manager and they came up right behind the worker.)

Worker: “SHE SHOULD HAVE THE GIRL BLOCKS!” *reaches towards the bag of blocks I currently have in my cart and that I still have my arms around*

Manager: “[Worker]!”

Worker: *jumps high and turns around, paling*

Manager: “Just… just go to the office. I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

(I haven’t’ seen that worker in toys since, but I have seen her in food, where she can’t yell at anyone for purchasing macaroni and cheese for a boy or girl, and where she can give me the dirtiest look she can possibly manage. I did get that block set and I can’t wait to see my daughter’s face when she realizes she has her very own set now!)

Not So Pretty In Pink

Please Leave The Emasculation On The Side

| TX, USA | Bigotry, Employees

(While going grocery shopping, my wife and I stop at a popular fast food chicken place we like very much. We make our order, and go wait. Soon the waiter arrives with our trays… and this ensues.)

Waiter: “Okay, who had the side salad?”

Me: “That’s mine.”

Waiter: “Uh, usually only women order the salad.”

Me: “That’s okay. I can handle it.”

Waiter: *sets down the trays and skedaddles*

(Ah, life in small town Texas!)

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