Kiss My Ass Sweetheart
So I've still got over an hour left at work, I've only been here since almost 1 because I had to come here from across the state (long story. Well, not as long as boring and dumb, but...)
But the point is today's been pretty much a parade of sexism.
First off, this guy called from an advertising company. He asked to talk to Deborah (my mom). When I explained that she doesn't work here anymore, he got really confused. He had to ask to make sure this was the right place even though I answer the phone with our business name. He then asked who is "running the show now" and that he did advertising "for her", referring to my mom. Please note that my mom has never been the actual owner. My grampa owned the place first, then handed it down to my dad when I was in high school. Mom answered phones and managed the office. Anyway, I explained to him that Jeff (my dad) was in charge, and that he was out at the moment, but if he called back in a half hour he should be back. And the guy says, "Okay, sweetheart, I'll do that."
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I'm hanging up on him if he actually does call back. Dad supports this, and suggested telling him, "Well you can kiss my ass, sweetheart." Besides, for someone who has supposedly done business with us before, he sure had a lot of trouble getting it through his head who actually owns the place.
And then later on I took a call from a guy who was really adamant about wanting to talk to the gentleman he usually talks to and implicitly assumed that I don't know anything about cars because I have a vagina. Which, yeah, not as much as my professional mechanic father, but the guy wouldn't even tell me what the problems with his car even were, which made taking a message difficult. He wouldn't even tell me the make and model of his car. Okay. I may have a vagina, but having a family in the car business and working here for several years, I kind of know the basics.
Ugh.
But the point is today's been pretty much a parade of sexism.
First off, this guy called from an advertising company. He asked to talk to Deborah (my mom). When I explained that she doesn't work here anymore, he got really confused. He had to ask to make sure this was the right place even though I answer the phone with our business name. He then asked who is "running the show now" and that he did advertising "for her", referring to my mom. Please note that my mom has never been the actual owner. My grampa owned the place first, then handed it down to my dad when I was in high school. Mom answered phones and managed the office. Anyway, I explained to him that Jeff (my dad) was in charge, and that he was out at the moment, but if he called back in a half hour he should be back. And the guy says, "Okay, sweetheart, I'll do that."
: |
I'm hanging up on him if he actually does call back. Dad supports this, and suggested telling him, "Well you can kiss my ass, sweetheart." Besides, for someone who has supposedly done business with us before, he sure had a lot of trouble getting it through his head who actually owns the place.
And then later on I took a call from a guy who was really adamant about wanting to talk to the gentleman he usually talks to and implicitly assumed that I don't know anything about cars because I have a vagina. Which, yeah, not as much as my professional mechanic father, but the guy wouldn't even tell me what the problems with his car even were, which made taking a message difficult. He wouldn't even tell me the make and model of his car. Okay. I may have a vagina, but having a family in the car business and working here for several years, I kind of know the basics.
Ugh.