*is easily amused*
Seen on Not Always Right:
(Retail | Atlanta, GA, USA)
Me: "Hi, how can help you today?"
Customer: "Are you a lesbian!?"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Customer: "You've got real short hair. I heard that women with short hair are lesbians."
Me: "So, was there anything I could help you with?"
Customer: "You can answer my question! Are you a lesbian or not?!"
Me: "Sir, I don't feel it's appropriate for me to answer that."
Customer: "I don't want some hell-bound homosexual near me! God will strike you down for disobeying his word!"
Me: "Okay, okay. If you really must know, no I am not a lesbian."
Customer: "Then why do you have short hair??"
(By this time, my manager, who is male-to-female transgender, walks over.)
Manager: *in a manly voice* "Is there a problem here sir?"
Customer: "Oh dear lord! You're not a woman!"
Manager: "Only on paper, sir.
Customer: *runs out screaming* "This place is d***ed! D***ed I tell you!"
Oh, if only I had a dollar for every time I got asked that question back in Tennessee (and basically had the exact same conversation, minor the manager stepping in.) I'd be rich right now. And this story's from Atlanta; it's just a Southern thing, I suppose.
This entry has been crossposted to Dreamwidth, and it currently has
replies there. Comment on whichever site you prefer.
(Retail | Atlanta, GA, USA)
Me: "Hi, how can help you today?"
Customer: "Are you a lesbian!?"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Customer: "You've got real short hair. I heard that women with short hair are lesbians."
Me: "So, was there anything I could help you with?"
Customer: "You can answer my question! Are you a lesbian or not?!"
Me: "Sir, I don't feel it's appropriate for me to answer that."
Customer: "I don't want some hell-bound homosexual near me! God will strike you down for disobeying his word!"
Me: "Okay, okay. If you really must know, no I am not a lesbian."
Customer: "Then why do you have short hair??"
(By this time, my manager, who is male-to-female transgender, walks over.)
Manager: *in a manly voice* "Is there a problem here sir?"
Customer: "Oh dear lord! You're not a woman!"
Manager: "Only on paper, sir.
Customer: *runs out screaming* "This place is d***ed! D***ed I tell you!"
Oh, if only I had a dollar for every time I got asked that question back in Tennessee (and basically had the exact same conversation, minor the manager stepping in.) I'd be rich right now. And this story's from Atlanta; it's just a Southern thing, I suppose.
This entry has been crossposted to Dreamwidth, and it currently has
replies there. Comment on whichever site you prefer.