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So I and a couple co-workers are busy stocking various ugly lawn and garden chotchkies when the salesfloor supervisor waves me over to hardware, shoves her portable phone in my hand, and tells me "I need you to take this call; she does not want to talk to a woman."
I briefly contemplate answering in the most girly, highest-pitched voice I can muster "Hello, this is Gertrude, how can I help you?" because sexism sucks. But being a trooper, I answer the phone normally.
On the other end is a semi-intelligible old woman looking for a hook of some kind. After listening to her describe what she's looking for, I figure out she wants these. At the swamp, they only come in the brass-plated finish shown in the link, and in a package of 3.
Me: They're called one-step hooks, they are a brass finish, and they come in a pack of three.
Old woman: BUT I TALKED TO A GUY THERE LAST NIGHT AND HE SAID YOU HAD A PACKAGE OF THEM IN DIFFERENT SIZES! AND WHITE ONES! AND HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT!
Me: Well, I do apologize, but I'm looking at the hooks you're describing, and they only come in the brass finish and in a package of three.
Old woman: BUT I TALKED TO A GUY LAST NIGHT AND HE SAID YOU HAD A PACKAGE OF THEM IN DIFFERENT SIZES! AND WHITE ONES! AND HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT!
Repeat the above conversation about seven or eight times, with the old battle axe growing more impatient, more insistent, more raspy, and less intelligible each time.
During the conversation, I try to gently suggest she may have called the wrong store, but she mentioned the brand name, and I visited the local inbred carnival today, and they didn't have any hardware in that brand. So if she did call another store last night, I don't know which one. Most likely she called the swamp and talked to somebody who just told her whatever she wanted to hear so she'd get off the phone. Finally, salesfloor supervisor, seeing me losing my patience and trying to suppress myself from asking "If you're so sure the person you spoke to last night knew what he was talking about, then why are you calling us again?", retakes the phone and talks to the old woman some more. Old woman hangs up.
Some time later I go on lunch. Guess what! The old woman on the phone makes her way into the store! She goes over to the hardware department, where the electronics specialist gets stuck helping her. He shows her the hooks she wants, she apparently sees that they came in no other colors or packaging, and huffs "I ain't paying four bucks for three of these hooks!"
And it's a damn good thing I was on lunch too. Otherwise it would've been me, and not electronics specialist, who had to hear her mention that she shaves her legs with her dead husband's old electric razor.
She ends up buying a few things and tying up the line at the checkout (manned by one of our few male cashiers; she really didn't want to deal with a woman) over shit nobody cares about, I'm sure.
I briefly contemplate answering in the most girly, highest-pitched voice I can muster "Hello, this is Gertrude, how can I help you?" because sexism sucks. But being a trooper, I answer the phone normally.
On the other end is a semi-intelligible old woman looking for a hook of some kind. After listening to her describe what she's looking for, I figure out she wants these. At the swamp, they only come in the brass-plated finish shown in the link, and in a package of 3.
Me: They're called one-step hooks, they are a brass finish, and they come in a pack of three.
Old woman: BUT I TALKED TO A GUY THERE LAST NIGHT AND HE SAID YOU HAD A PACKAGE OF THEM IN DIFFERENT SIZES! AND WHITE ONES! AND HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT!
Me: Well, I do apologize, but I'm looking at the hooks you're describing, and they only come in the brass finish and in a package of three.
Old woman: BUT I TALKED TO A GUY LAST NIGHT AND HE SAID YOU HAD A PACKAGE OF THEM IN DIFFERENT SIZES! AND WHITE ONES! AND HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT!
Repeat the above conversation about seven or eight times, with the old battle axe growing more impatient, more insistent, more raspy, and less intelligible each time.
During the conversation, I try to gently suggest she may have called the wrong store, but she mentioned the brand name, and I visited the local inbred carnival today, and they didn't have any hardware in that brand. So if she did call another store last night, I don't know which one. Most likely she called the swamp and talked to somebody who just told her whatever she wanted to hear so she'd get off the phone. Finally, salesfloor supervisor, seeing me losing my patience and trying to suppress myself from asking "If you're so sure the person you spoke to last night knew what he was talking about, then why are you calling us again?", retakes the phone and talks to the old woman some more. Old woman hangs up.
Some time later I go on lunch. Guess what! The old woman on the phone makes her way into the store! She goes over to the hardware department, where the electronics specialist gets stuck helping her. He shows her the hooks she wants, she apparently sees that they came in no other colors or packaging, and huffs "I ain't paying four bucks for three of these hooks!"
And it's a damn good thing I was on lunch too. Otherwise it would've been me, and not electronics specialist, who had to hear her mention that she shaves her legs with her dead husband's old electric razor.
She ends up buying a few things and tying up the line at the checkout (manned by one of our few male cashiers; she really didn't want to deal with a woman) over shit nobody cares about, I'm sure.
But then you might like that so who knows...
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