#not always right
Sleep-deprived me is the funniest motherfucker in the room, but only unintentionally.
Deeply unpleasant patron: “I want a library that will give me the time of day!”
Me, exhausted and very literal-minded: “It’s 5:34, sir.”
(I am the business manager for a small music store. I am a young female in my early twenties. I am in charge of finances, hiring and firing, marketing, etc., along with being the second in command after the owner. It is a small company, so I know everyone in the store and sometimes work the retail portion during particularly busy days. We’re also a pretty close workplace, so it is not uncommon for us to hang out after work to grab drinks. One day, the general manager, the person below me in the chain of command and in charge of overseeing retail employees, comes to my office with an unusual situation.)
General Manager: “Could I talk to you about an issue I’m having?”
Me: “Of course; I’m happy to help.”
General Manager: “[Employee] came into work today wearing a slightly inappropriate outfit, and I’m not quite sure how to address it. I’m worried that me, a man in my mid-forties, trying to have a conversation about appropriate work attire with a 22-year-old female will come off as creepy and rude.”
Me: “I understand completely. Why don’t I go up to the register and check it out, and if I find what she’s wearing to be inappropriate for the workplace, I’ll have a conversation with her about it?”
General Manager: “Thank you. I thought it might be better coming from you, especially since you two go out for drinks together often.”
(I finish what I am working on and then go to the front of the store to check out the situation. As I am relatively good friends with this employee, I don’t expect her to wear anything truly inappropriate, and never by intention, so what I find is quite shocking. She literally looks like she is about to go to Coachella; she’s wearing a woven crop top that only covers a small portion of her chest and leaves nothing to the imagination, a bright, neon yellow bra underneath, and a pair of very short shorts. It’s more than a little too risqué for our work environment.)
Me: “Hey, [Employee], can I talk to you for a moment?”
Employee: “Yeah, sure!”
Me: “I want to start off with saying you are not in trouble.”
Employee: “Is everything okay? I’m not being fired, am I?”
Me: “No! Of course not! I just want to talk to you for a moment about what you’re wearing.”
Employee: “Isn’t it cute? I just got it the other day!”
Me: “It’s very cute, but it’s not appropriate for the workplace. Now, I’m not going to send you home today, but I need you to assure me you won’t dress like this again.”
Employee: “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought we had a laid-back dress code here.”
Me: “We do, but that means jeans and a T-shirt are the most casual things you can dress in. We still need to maintain professionalism here. Also, we have music students of all ages coming in here, not to mention that you and I both know how inappropriate some of the male customers can be already. Bottom line, you’re not in trouble; I’m just going to need for you to agree to have your midriff and cleavage covered in the future. You’ve always followed the dress code up until today, so I don’t think it should be a problem.”
Employee: “Oh, okay. I’m so sorry. I just need to do laundry tonight and I wasn’t thinking about it and I didn’t think it would be a problem since we have a casual dress code. I guess I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. But out of curiosity, why are you the one telling me this? Isn’t it usually [General Manager]’s job to deal with little things like this?”
Me: “Normally, it is, but he felt a little uncomfortable trying to talk to a woman fifteen years his junior about what’s appropriate for her to wear, so I agreed to check it out and talk with you if I agreed with his initial thoughts.”
Employee: “Okay, that makes sense.” *laughs* “Yeah, that definitely would have felt a little creepy.”
Me: “Yeah, I’ve known him long enough to know he wouldn’t have meant anything by it, but you have only been here a few months, so we didn’t want to make it weird.”
(The rest of the quick conversation is uneventful; we happily discuss getting drinks the next day after work, and then we both go back to our respective tasks. Later that night, I’m scrolling through Facebook and see a post from the employee from earlier.)
Employee’s Post: “I’m so fed up with how working conditions are these days! Like, my creepy old male employer had the nerve to try to tell me how to dress today, and then tried to imply that if I dress in a way that he finds inappropriate that I’d be inviting men to harass me, which would then be my fault for my attire. I’m so tired of slut-shaming in today’s society and how we victim-blame. It’s disgusting and wrong. I should be able to dress however I want without being judged or having to worry I’ll be assaulted.”
(She has my store as her employment in her bio, so I’m immediately worried by the false implications she’s throwing against my store. I’m reading through the comments and I see a lot of outrage and people agreeing with her. Being her friend — and boss — I decide to comment myself:)
My Comment: “[Employee], I’m terribly sorry that the conversation you had with me, your 23-year-old female employer, went so negatively in your mind today. I was under the impression it had gone well since you and I agreed to get cocktails tomorrow night. I also know that your older male GM had to leave right before our conversation today, since he had to pick his son up from school. So, if you could just privately message me which employee had this conversation with you, I’d be happy to follow up on it, because what you described is not behavior we condone at [Store].
I agree with you that no woman should ever have to worry that what she wears could open men up to believing she is deserving of assault. I agree that society is not painting assault victims in a pretty color at the moment and that there needs to be a change in our society. However, we at [Store] do not condone slut-shaming, victim-shaming, or strict dress codes. We always stand up for our employees’ desire to express themselves through their unique attire, so long as it is workplace appropriate. Unfortunately, I have to say that your macrame crop top and neon yellow bra combination just didn’t feel workplace appropriate for our store. We did not send you home to change, we did not write you up for an infraction, and we did not in any way bully, shame, or punish you for your choice of outfit today. I simply asked that you not repeat this outfit or anything similarly revealing.
I also wanted to remind you that last week when a customer got particularly brazen and started to cross the line with you, we had GM escort the man outside and wait with him until the police arrived, as we had every intention of having him arrested for harassment for how he acted and the things he said to you. We have always taken our employee’s sides when it comes to harassment and will never condone that kind of inappropriate behavior. I’m terribly sorry if you were given the wrong impression today during our conversation. Please reach out to me at your earliest convenience so we can discuss anything further.”(When I woke up the next morning I had 15+ notifications from Facebook. When I checked, it was people either liking or commenting on my response. By the time I went in to work that morning, she had pulled down the post as the comments had all shifted from her side to mine. She avoided me for her entire shift that day and we did not go out for drinks after work, either. She later apologized and we remained friendly during her time working for my store.
It wasn’t until a few months later that she had to be fired for starting an affair with a married coworker — not the general manager! — trying to steal music students to teach privately, and for baiting customers into having heated arguments with her so that it would look like the customer was verbally attacking her and the general manager would escort them out. All of this happened during her final week, so I guess she wanted to go out with an eventful bang of a week.)
The final paragraph is definitely my favorite part of this plothole-ridden story. “Psst, I’m giving music lessons if you’re interested. What instrument? The sad trombone. It is too a real instrument, you misogynist pig! Security!” *customer is immediately escorted out*
(I work at the customer service desk in a major bookstore. I’m helping a woman — who has explained that she’s heading back to school after a divorce — order some of her textbooks. Her daughter, who is in her late teens or early twenties, is also around, checking out things by the register.)
Daughter:“Mom! Can I have your card to get coffee? They’ve got a [Popular Coffee Chain] in here.”
(The mother hands over a card.)
Customer: “Okay, next is [English book with the word “Grammar” in the title].”
Daughter: *disdainfully* “Grammar is a social construct.”
Mother: “Go get your coffee.”
Daughter: “It’s just made up by the patriarchy as a way to keep non-native English speakers down!”
(The mother ignores her daughter and turns back to me.)
Mother: “I hope they don’t try to teach me any of that crap when I go back to school.”
Daughter: “Mom, how can you buy into this crap?!”
Me: “You realize literally every language has grammatical rules, right? Without grammar, language is nonsense.”
Daughter: “That’s racist!”
(The mother snatches her card out of her daughter’s hand and gives it to me.)
Mother: “You can have the coffee, instead.”
Mmhmm, yeah, everyone knows retail employees have no qualms about insulting customers to their face or taking their cards to get themselves coffee with.
For people who make such a fuss about (privileged group) supposedly speaking for (marginalized group), “anti-SJW” sure can’t seem to stop doing that themselves…
(I am an exam invigilator at a university. The students have been filing into the exam hall and finding their allocated seats.)
Me: “We have given each of you a black pen for this exam. You are free to use your own, but they are there if you need them. I know they look red with the top, but I assure you: they are black.”
Student: “Isn’t that a bit racist?”
Me:“What?”
Student: “Only offering black. It’s like you’re saying black people are only here to do our work for us.”
(She looks around at some of the black students, trying to gain support. Most of them look away while others stare at her in disbelief.)
Me: “You’re only allowed to write in black or blue during this exam, and we only have black pens at the moment because that is what was ordered.”
Student:*rolls her eyes* “Still sounds pretty sexist to me.”
Other Student:*mumbles*“Sounds f****** stupid to me.”
(She glared at him as several of the students around us laughed. I asked for any questions and began the exam. During the 50 minutes, she stared at me repeatedly with a smug expression. At the end of the day I bumped into one of the lecturers/tutors in the car park, who told me the student had complained about me “bullying her into submission” because she disagreed with the racist practices at the university. The tutor was surprised and confused because the student hadn’t fully explained what had happened. After explaining fully, the tutor sighed and told me she would handle everything, and not to worry about it. It was quite satisfying when a few months later during resits, I could hear the student outside the hall, saying how she had gotten someone fired for “flagrant racism and misogyny,” only to see her face deflate when I opened the door to let everyone in.)
[Enid rolls her eyes]
Yeah, no part of this happened.
A caller had no Internet service. She had a big power outage and her modem wasn’t getting any power. She said she needed Internet ASAP because she was a doctor and needed it for her “practice.”
To determine whether a breaker jumped or if it was our modem that was fried, I asked her to plug in a lamp or anything else to the plug to see if it lights up. Pretty straight forward, I thought. To which she replied, and I quote, “I’m just a woman. I can’t be expected to know how to do this. Just send a tech.”
Seeing as how feminism had just taken it on the chin by one of their own, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from replying, “Okay, I’ll send a big strong man to fix that right up for you. Just have a sandwich waiting for him when he gets there.”
This is a lotof hassle to go through to justify the use of a “make me a sandwich” joke… in 2017.
I feel like OP’s time could’ve been better spent on, I don’t know, learning to actually be funny or maybe not so blatantly a misogynist or something.
(It’s a slow day at work. My coworker and I are standing behind the counter making idle chat.)
Me: “Know what I’ve been thinking about?”
Coworker:“What?”
Me: “Kids’ sports movies.”
Coworker: “Kids’ sports movies?”
Me: “Yuh huh. Specifically, the fact that they’re all exactly the same.”
Coworker: “What do you mean?”
Me: “I mean how they all have the exact same plot, the exact same characters, the exact same tone, everything.”
Coworker:*sounding unconvinced*“Hmmm…”
Me: “Think about it. You always have the exact same set of stereotypical characters: the nerd, the fat kid, the black kid who only talks in pseudo-racist jive, the girl playing on the boys’ team just to prove she can, and the guy who could be a superstar if he could just get past his piddling first-world emotional problems.”
Coworker: “You know, I think I see what you mean. Don’t forget the alcoholic coach trying to relive his glory days.”
Me: “Exactly. And our ragtag band of misfits always has to play the team of rich snobs in the championship game who taunted and defeated them at the beginning of the movie.”
Coworker: “And the coach of the rich snobs’ team was the one who humiliated our heroes’ coach way back when.”
Me: “Right. And our heroes lose their first couple of games until a pep talk from the coach inspires them, and then they destroy every successive opponent they face until the championship game, when the rich snobs are kicking their butts at halftime. Then the would-be superstar finally gets his head out of his butt and helps them turn things around in the second half and they win.”
Coworker: “And as the second half of the championship game begins, it shows a montage of our heroes evening the score set to CCR’s ‘Up Around the Bend.‘”
Me: “Hah! Totally! That’s like the ultimate ‘sports-getting-your-act-in-gear’ song.”
Coworker: “You know, you’re right.”
Me: “Like I told you, dude. They’re all the same.”
Customer: “How DARE you!”
Both Of Us:“Huh?”
(A customer has just walked up to the counter and overheard the last thing I said.)
Customer: “How DARE you say that all African-Americans are the same?! You RACIST!”
Me: “What? African-Americans? No, we were talking about kids’ sports movies.”
Customer: “You said ‘They’re all the same’!”
Me: “Yes, ma’am. I was saying that all of those movies are the same.”
Customer: “Don’t you lie to me, you racist scum! Anyone who says ‘They’re all the same’ is talking about African-Americans!”
Coworker: “Ma’am, I promise you that’s not what we were talking about.”
Customer: “Shut up, you racist! This whole store is racist! I don’t have to put up with this racist store! This is the MOST offensive thing I’ve ever heard in my ENTIRE life and I demand compensation for this insulting racism!”
Me: “Uh… I’m sorry?”
Customer: “You’ll be sorry when your racist a** is out on the street!”
(She stomped off to the customer service counter to complain. Apparently she didn’t get the reaction she wanted from the store manager because she stomped out of the store all together a minute later. Also, she was white.)
*It’s just not realistic gif*
Your problem, OP, is that you forgot to write your Hysterical White Ally like an actual person and just had her scream OFFENSIVE and RACIST instead. That might appeal to the self-proclaimed “anti SJWs” and other white supremacists, but it doesn’t make for a realistic villain/strawman.
You also offer no reason for us to believe the near-perfect recall of the conversation or the extreme coincidence of the customer ONLY overhearing exactly what was convenient for your plotline.
The “pseudo racist” comment was a cute try at sounding aware and willing to acknowledge actual racism, but it just wasn’t enough to save you or this story from being dismissed as fake and racist.
You get a D.
(As with most call centers, we are required to use phonics when spelling names. Especially if we have difficulty in understanding the caller. This is one such time:)
Operator: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m having difficulty understanding the letter you are using. Is that ‘M,’ as in ‘Mike’ or ‘N,’ as in ‘November?‘”
Caller: “Excuse me?”
Operator: “Are you saying ‘M,’ as in ‘Mother’ or ‘N,’ as in ‘Newspaper?'”
Caller:“Do not make me say it. Do NOT make me say it.”
Operator: “I apologize for this inconvenience, but I need to make sure the spelling is proper. ‘M,’ as in ‘Microwave’ or ‘N,’ as in ‘Necktie?'”
Caller: “FINE! It’s ‘N’ as in ‘[common racial slur beginning with the letter ‘N’]’! I hope you are happy with yourself. What kind of bigoted company do you work for? We are ALL brothers and sisters and shouldn’t be divided by such hatred.”
(The caller continued for an additional few minutes, raging about how the operator forced her to use a racial slur.)
(My aunt works at a popular doughnut shop chain near my grandmother’s house. One evening, my older sister and her boyfriend, my little brother, and I decide to head there after an afternoon at a fair, while waiting for my mom to pick us up. A short while afterward, a couple of tough-guy type young men walk in, making rude comments, being loud, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. The leader of the group approaches the counter where my aunt is working.)
Customer #1: “Yo, b****, gimme your number.”
Aunt: “I don’t think so. Is there anything you’d like to order?”
Customer #1: “How ’bout a piece of that a**?”
Aunt: “Sorry, not on the menu. Now order something or please leave. You’re holding up the line.”
Customer #2: “B****, we’ll leave when we wanna leave.”
Customer #3: “Yeah, who’s gonna stop us, little old you?”
Aunt: “No, little old [Manager]. Now, please, place your order or get out.”
(The customer orders two cases of donuts, and throws his money to the ground.)
Customer #1: “See what you did? Pick it up and hand it back to me!”
Aunt: “Um, it’s on your side of the counter.”
(The customer picks up his money and walks over behind the counter and throws it down again.)
Customer #1: “Now pick it up, b****!”
Aunt: “No. As a matter of fact, leave. I’m refusing service.”
Customer #1: “Why, because I’m black?!”
Aunt: “No, because you’re acting like an imperious a**hole, and you have been since you walked in. Now leave, or I’m calling the police.”
(As luck would have it, a police officer stops inside the shop.)
Me: “Wow, that was fast.”
Customer #1: “Officer, this racist b**** was trying to kick me and my homies out. We ain’t even done nothin’!”
Officer: “Really? Because what I saw was you throwing your money at this woman twice, in addition to walking behind the counter, which isn’t allowed for non-employees.”
(The customer and his buddies start throwing a fit, yelling expletives, flipping everybody off, and generally acting unruly. Then they head outside and start throwing boxes around; the leader even takes off his shirt and tries goading everyone into a fight.)
Customer #1: “COME ON, I’LL SHOW Y’ALL! I’LL BEAT Y’ALLS A**ES SO HARD! COME ON!”
(He has another argument with the officer, but thankfully leaves with his buddies. However, he comes back a few minutes later accompanied not by his friends, but his grandmother.)
Customer’s Grandmother: “So I understand y’all have a problem servin’ my grandbaby?”
Customer: “Yeah, yeah, they were callin’ me all kinds of s***, and the girl over there was saying we were on food stamps!”
Customer’s Grandmother: “…[Customer’s Name], stand outside and wait while I talk to the officer here.”
(The customer steps outside and my aunt explains everything that happened. After hearing it, the grandmother is incensed and walks outside.)
Customer’s Grandmother: “YOU LITTLE PUNK-A**! GET YO’ A** IN THE CAR NOW! You dragged me outta my home for THIS?!”
(As they drive off, my mom finally pulls in.)
Mom: “So, what’d I miss?”
Uh huh. So I’m supposed to believe:
- That the aunt had snappy comebacks to everything?
- That a Black person, particularly a “tough guy type” Black man, would seriously think the cops are ever going to be on his side, particularly with something like this?
- That a police officer who brought up “going behind the counter” as proof of wrongdoing would then just shrug and look the other way as the customer yelled, swore, threw things about, and challenged everyone - including the cop - to a fight? Officer I Magically Saw The Whole Thing In Detail From Outside just let them make a fuss and then walk out the store at their leisure, and then just argued with them in the parking lot after some time? Sure.
- That in all this the customer never asked for his money back for the donuts he didn’t get?
- That he’d then bring his GRANDMOTHER in, because apparently she can somehow override a cop, and as everyone knows, “tough guy types” who challenge cops to fights would totally bring their grandmothers (who refer to them as “baby”) in to defend them?
- Those horrific attempts at AAVE?
Of course he “ain’t even done nothin’.” He doesn’t actually exist anywhere outside of the imaginations of anti Black losers who really want to believe that anti Blackness is a myth conjured up by Black people who are unmistakeably in the wrong and are “playing the race card” to try and get their way.
That they’ve never actually seen it happen is completely irrelevant. It’s not lying if you really, really, really want to believe it happens, right? /sarcasm
(I recently began working customer service at a large music store. A lot of our clientele are affluent, Asian men and women whose children take lessons at the store. Mind you, I am half-Asian but I have lighter hair and eyes. On slow days, sometimes I play my ukulele to pass the time, and this day is no exception. A customer and her son, who looks to be about my age, enters.)
Me: “Hi! Welcome to [Store]. Anything I can help you find today?”
(The customer looks at me briefly and appears annoyed but says nothing. After a few minutes I pick up my ukulele and continue playing. Eventually the woman slams several pieces of piano repertoire on the counter.)
Me: “Is this all?”
Customer:“Yes.”
Me: “This is rather difficult music. Is it for you or your son?”
Customer:“No questions. I don’t like you.”
Me: “Uh, excuse me?”
Customer:“See? So offended, just like every other white girl. No shame. They shouldn’t hire white people here; this is not a white people store.”
Me: “Ma’am, everyone is free to come into our store, regardless of what they look like.”
Customer:“Stupid white girl. I want an Asian worker.”
Me:“Actually, I’m half Korean.”
Customer: “Shut up. You white people never know when to shut up. Always wasting time. Like with this.”
(She picks my ukulele up from where I had set it on the counter and holds it in front of my face. I try to pull it from her but she holds on.)
Me: “If you don’t put that down right now, I will call security. You are being racist and now you are handling my personal property without my permission.”
Customer: “Don’t talk to me. I want an Asian worker.”
Me: “Ma’am, I actually AM Asian, though—”
Customer:“I want an Asian worker! You’re too white! You are bad!”
Me: “I’m sorry, but—”
Customer: “UGH! INCOMPETENT WHITE PEOPLE! COME ON, [Son], WE’RE LEAVING! I WILL CALL YOUR MANAGER!”
(Later on I’m relaying the events to the manager, who is laughing his a** off.)
Manager: “So where in Europe is Korea located, again?”
Seeing as OP put no effort into making any part of the dialogue convincing, I’m gonna skip the “think of something funny and sarcastic” to say bit and just have you all vote on which of the following lines was the most hilariously and obviously fake:
a) “See? So offended, just like every other White girl. No shame.”
b) “Shut up. You white people never know when to shut up. Always wasting time.”
c) “You’re too white! You are bad!”
Let me know through replies, reblogs, or asks!
Thanks to frogsgointhemicrowave for this submission.
