I was working in Hell on Sunday when I did the unthinkable, the unrecoverable, the unforgivable, but yet still understandable, most feared act in all of customer service.
A rather bulky gentleman was looking through a table of shitty clothes that I had just folded, in the men's department, checking for sizes and such. I was annoyed so I walked over and said, to his back, "May I help you, sir?"
And he turned and stared at me. So I smiled and said, "Do you need any help, sir?" And he continued to stare. I stared back. Insert sound effect from Tom & Jerry of two piano keys corresponding to blinks.
And then I smelled what I was stepping in.
"I mean, ma'am?"
SHE continued to stare, and I felt her piggy little eyes boring into my back as I walked away.
When I revealed what I did to Wonder Woman, the coworker in closest proximity, she said, "Do you think you'll get fired?" And I thought about it. I have said some really bizarre and belligerent shit to both customers and staff while in my tenure at Hell, but I had yet to fully mistake someone's gender. At least, out loud.
So I answered, "Well, no, because I think that it's neither the worst thing I have ever said here and that I am most likely not alone in thinking that SHE'S a dude."
Two points in my defense: I have had gender differentiation issues before. I remember thinking that RuPaul was one hot cup of chocolate when he broke on the scene. I was twenty, what the fuck did I know? And the person SHE most resembled is this guy, from the back and the front:
I challenge anyone to be able to tell me a dude is not a dude when said individual looks like Mr. Color Commentary himself. SHE even had the haircut.
Thanks to the growing demographic of bull-dike lesbians shopping at the store, it will most likely happen again. And you know what? It will be just as funny then, too.
-Zeepdoggie
05 December 2007
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2 comments:
I've totally done this before. And been promptly chewed the fuck out.
Can't say that I blame her, but hell, how was I supposed to know?
This story just does not lose it's humour, baby. Keep em' coming, it's not your fault she was a beefy chick.
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