Elation, Despair.
So, as many of you know, I've been having problems with my car's gasoline retention system, and today, after I dropped off my exam, I went to CarQuest to pick up the Chilton's manual for my car. I figure anything as basic as this seems, I can do it myself (with Liz), so long as I got instructions on how to put it all back together.
I go to the rack of manuals and they don't have one for my car. They have them for Toyotas, but not Corollas, and not 1988-1994. So, I approach the counter. I wait, becuase, suddenly, everyone and their uncle is wanting this or that part for this or that vehicle... I'm standing there a few minutes, when a counterpro (seriously, they're called that), says, "Can I help you, sir?" (elation, controlling my strong desire to grin).
And I say, rather gruff, because, you know, I'm feelin' all macho, and it's morning, so this is as gravelly as my voice gets, "yeah, I'm lookin' for--"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I mean, ma'am" (shot down)
I say, "Oh, no, I prefer 'sir'."
Counterpro, looks at my chest, looks at me, "I'm sorry, ma'am, what was it you were looking for?" (hands curl into fists, deep sigh)
"I need the Chilton's for a 91 Toyota Corolla Four Door." I say, tersely.
"Oh, they're over here on the shelf, ma'am" and he walks over to where I'd just come from, like I can't read or something.
"I looked on the shelf, you've got 4runner manuals but no corollas"
He ignores me, continues to look through the shelf, punctuating his search with, "I'm sorry about the 'sir' thing-- it must be too close to lunch" and "I'm sure we can find you a manual for your car."
Me: "There aren't any on the shelf"
He continues to look furtively, before rising and saying, "let me check the computer." He goes over to the computer, asks me for what kind of car it was again, then says, "well, ma'am, we can get one for you tomorrow. Would you like me to put an order in?"
"Sure."
Him: "Can I have your name and phone number, ma'am, so we can call you when it comes in?"
Me: "Shawn O'Neil"
Him: "S-H... how do you spell that, ma'am?"
*hangs head* What the hell.
Joy at being in a man's space and being 'sir'ed (I wasn't the only female bodied person in the store), and anger that that bastard kept "ma'am"ing me to make up for the initial "mistake". Gr.
I go to the rack of manuals and they don't have one for my car. They have them for Toyotas, but not Corollas, and not 1988-1994. So, I approach the counter. I wait, becuase, suddenly, everyone and their uncle is wanting this or that part for this or that vehicle... I'm standing there a few minutes, when a counterpro (seriously, they're called that), says, "Can I help you, sir?" (elation, controlling my strong desire to grin).
And I say, rather gruff, because, you know, I'm feelin' all macho, and it's morning, so this is as gravelly as my voice gets, "yeah, I'm lookin' for--"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I mean, ma'am" (shot down)
I say, "Oh, no, I prefer 'sir'."
Counterpro, looks at my chest, looks at me, "I'm sorry, ma'am, what was it you were looking for?" (hands curl into fists, deep sigh)
"I need the Chilton's for a 91 Toyota Corolla Four Door." I say, tersely.
"Oh, they're over here on the shelf, ma'am" and he walks over to where I'd just come from, like I can't read or something.
"I looked on the shelf, you've got 4runner manuals but no corollas"
He ignores me, continues to look through the shelf, punctuating his search with, "I'm sorry about the 'sir' thing-- it must be too close to lunch" and "I'm sure we can find you a manual for your car."
Me: "There aren't any on the shelf"
He continues to look furtively, before rising and saying, "let me check the computer." He goes over to the computer, asks me for what kind of car it was again, then says, "well, ma'am, we can get one for you tomorrow. Would you like me to put an order in?"
"Sure."
Him: "Can I have your name and phone number, ma'am, so we can call you when it comes in?"
Me: "Shawn O'Neil"
Him: "S-H... how do you spell that, ma'am?"
*hangs head* What the hell.
Joy at being in a man's space and being 'sir'ed (I wasn't the only female bodied person in the store), and anger that that bastard kept "ma'am"ing me to make up for the initial "mistake". Gr.