People Share The Most Condescending Advice They Received From Someone Who Assumed They Were Poor

We just can’t help it. We’re pretty visual creatures, and we tend to make snap judgments based on what meets the eye. If it looks and sounds like a dog, it probably is a dog! Who’s to know any different based on physical appearance? In a quick moment taken at face value, you probably don’t. How could you?

It goes to show that what you see isn’t always what you get. A person’s image can be contorted. If you spend a minute or two and put out your feelers, you might be able to pick up on a deeper story. Giving a stranger the benefit of the doubt and not jumping to conclusions immediately, can be the difference between a very humiliating and not so humiliating experience, both for you and the other person.

There are some pretty cringy moments in the following stories where people have snapped to a predisposed point of view without basing it on anything other than what they saw before them. Like the lawyer who thought the witness was just a kid who couldn’t back up his claim – until the ‘kid’ revealed himself to be a university professor. Or the woman working the register at 7/11 who was berated by a man who said she was a failure – until she came up with the perfect retort that puts him in his place and makes him look like an idiot.

Sadly, these situations happen frequently. Happily, justice is served in all of these! Read on for some pretty condescending moments turned into glorious retribution!
30. He Can Do Whatever He Wants Especially When -Almost- Everyone Knows Who He Is

“I was in a bar-restaurant enjoying a soda and a nice meal when a very nasty manager came to my table and told me I had to get out. He decided I was underage and this establishment served alcohol, so I was not allowed there, plus he needed my table for paying customers who would consume alcohol. I said no and ignored this guy.

He called me an ignorant, uneducated slob who probably did not have two cents to rub together. He called for a couple of bouncers to throw me out and both said no, they did not want to risk throwing out one of their professors. That idiot then tried to grab me and cried out loudly from a hurt arm and shoulder. The senior floor manager and the owner of the place came to our table to see what all the commotion was about.
The owner asked what was going on. His managers started talking and the owner said shut up and instead asked me what happened.

I said I was quietly eating and this fellow told me to get out so he could have my table for paying customers, meaning those who drank alcohol. Then he tried to assault me and I hurt him just enough for him to know that I would not move. The bouncers had much more going on than was shared. They knew me as I taught classes plus worked out in the gym at the same time as most of them. They also knew I was a regular who had never caused any trouble, but once I did quickly end a rather serious bar fight that put a couple of people in the hospital.

The owner then asked me if I wanted this new manager fired. I said no, but he should have to pay if he wanted to stay. The owner gave the manager a choice between quitting or losing a week’s pay. The bouncers and managers were all stunned. They knew me as a regular who often ate lunch or dinner there but had no clue why the owner deferred to me. We did not tell them that I was the majority owner of that place.” Source
29. He Got In The Last Word

“When I was in my 20s, I was working for a small Pest Control company.

It was a family business that comprised the owner (who was an NYC Fireman, as well as a mentor to me) and his brother-in-law. We were all very close, and this was the first real full-time job I’d ever had. We worked long hours, with no breaks and took pride in our work. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was something we had built up together. It fed our families and represented us as contributing members of society.

Due to our hard work and an emphasis on customer service, we became extremely busy. Soon we picked up multiple corporate accounts to subsidize our residential accounts.

One such account was an auto parts manufacturing company. We serviced their offices, machine shops, and warehouses. The building location and imports that came in offered no shortage of issues for us to handle, but we always managed to get to them promptly and we always handled the issue on the first trip.
Eventually, the executives began asking me to service their homes, seeing as how well we managed their business. I always went above and beyond for my customers, and these folks were no exception.

One day, while I was spraying the main office building, I walked into the VP’s office, after hours, to do their regular maintenance service.

To my surprise, the VP and the CFO were still sitting around the desk having a conversation. I knew them both well at this point, as I had been servicing their homes for some time.

I stopped when I saw them. ‘Hey, what’s going on guys? Working late tonight? You want me to come back and hit the office last?’

‘Nah, it’s cool man. We’re just talking about how slow business is.’

‘Oh, really? That sucks man, I’m sorry to hear that,’ as I’m doing my work around the perimeter of the room.

‘Yea, well it is what it is I guess…’ the VP replied.

‘Well look, you guys have a solid product. I wouldn’t panic just yet. I’m sure things will turn around,’ I said as I finished up the office. ‘Alright guys, you’re all set. Have a good night.’

But as I turned the corner, the VP said to his CFO, with the nastiest most sarcastic tone imaginable, ‘You know things are bad when the ******* EXTERMINATOR is giving you advice!’ They had a big laugh over that one. I paused, thought what a tactful response would be but decided it was better to just walk away. No sense risking a big account for that, I thought.

And then, just as I was walking away again, I hear him expound on his comment.
‘Bro, if I ever get to the point where I gotta work as a ******* EXTERMINATOR, ****** kill me.’

That was enough for me.

I poked my head back into his office, and in the same passive-aggressive sarcastic tone he’d used, I smiled and said, ‘Yea well, not all of our daddies give us companies, Tee-hee.’

The words slapped him clean across the face. The CFO fell silent, the grin departing his face as the awkwardness drove his gaze to the floor.

‘Oh, uh, hey…’ the VP stammered, ‘uh… I was uh, we were, umm, we were just joking around.’

‘Ohhhh, ok…’ I nodded slowly, casting an incredulous glance between the two men.

And with that, I left. Neither man said a word before I was out the door. Nobody ever brought it up again, and we remained in good standing with the company for years after that. Never besmirch a man because he’s making a living. Have some humility, and remember you don’t know how he got to where he is. No one job has more value than another, because, at the end of the day, we’re all just squirrels trying to find a nut.

This isn’t really close to the most condescending thing anyone’s ever said to me, but my loyalty to the company and the family I worked for makes this example stand out in my mind.” Source
28. She Was Humiliated In Front Of The Class

‘I had finally realized that I had to fix my own life and that it was up to me to figure out something I was good at so I could support my two daughters and better our lives.

After a lot of thought, I decided to go to the nearby community college. I had always been good in school, and due to my income, tuition would be free. In fact, at the end of the semester, the government would even give me a check for over a thousand dollars if I passed all my classes. I could then use this money to buy supplies and books, get to school, even buy an electronic typewriter second hand so I could type my papers.

The problem was I only received the check at the end of my first semester.

Now the college had a program that loaned the textbooks to me and paid for my bus tickets that first semester and my mom agreed to watch my younger girl while I was in class, so what could go wrong? I would go to college, become a teacher and have a stable income and a good life for my girls.

All was well until I reported to Welfare that I was going to school and that I would receive a check in December for over a thousand dollars. I was prepared to be told that I would receive no cash aid in January/February. I told them in August as I wanted time to plan if my aid would be cut.

I wasn’t prepared to be told my cash aid could not be touched but my food stamps were cut to zero, effectively immediately. Oh, and there will be an immediate investigation for fraud as if I could go to school clearly someone lived with me.

The social worker then leaned over and quietly said, ‘Stay home. Your children are five and three. I understand one is in kindergarten but the other one needs you. I can’t have all my mothers going to school. Where will my job be if all of you go to work? If you quit your check will come every month. You’ll have your food stamps. I even have a brochure for some free workshops you can do with your kids. Deal?’

It was hard but I told her no.

She kept her word. She sent an investigator and she eliminated my food stamps. I was bereft.

I used the twenty that was left over from my welfare grant after paying rent and utilities and I bought the basics.
At one store, the forklift had jabbed through four bags of potatoes. The bags had been taped up and most of the potatoes remained. I bought about thirty pounds of potatoes for just over a dollar. I bought a couple of marked down chickens and some bacon ends for meat. Oatmeal, carrots, onion, noodles, and rice. It wasn’t enough, but I’d have to make it work.

As you can imagine by the end of the month, we were scraping the bottom.

I had one chicken left to feed the kids for the week and ten pounds of potatoes. A few scraps of this and that. I figured, ‘it’s ok. I’ll make regular dinners for the kids with the chicken and they are little so they won’t eat much, and I’ll just have potatoes.’

To my dismay, about the third day of my new diet, my health teacher announced, ‘everyone is to keep a food log. Write down everything you eat for the next three days, and then we will analyze your food intake in the next class.’

But I couldn’t lie.

I knew I should be eating differently, but I was doing what I had to do, and there was honor in that.

I would not cheapen my honor with a lie.
So I wrote down what I ate, boiled potatoes and baked potatoes, fried potatoes (fried in bacon fat, yum flavor!), a teaspoon of ketchup, a tablespoon of margarine.

I turned it in.

My teacher called me up to the front of the class when it was my turn to be analyzed.

‘You appear to eat nothing but potatoes. This is a very unhealthy diet…’

And he spent five minutes outlining all the key nutrients potatoes are lacking and why eventually I would become very ill with my limited diet choice.

Triumphantly he looked at me — confident he had gotten through.

‘So knowing this, what will you have tonight for dinner?’

‘Potatoes. Boiled. Plain.’

‘But, but, why…?’

‘My kids are having the last of the chicken soup. I don’t get any money until the first of the month, in three more days. My kids will have enough good food if I only eat potatoes, so I’ll eat potatoes.’

I sat down.

And suddenly the teacher decided not to analyze anyone else’s diet in front of the class.” Source
27. It Took Him A While To Clue Into Who His Customer Is

“Last month I went to a local Ford dealership to buy a new F-150 for our truck fleet.

I am the majority shareholder in a real estate investment and development firm with a valuation nearing $100M, and I take a very active hand in day-to-day operations.

I had just gotten to the dealership, still in work clothes. It had been a day of drywall finishing and HVAC installation in a large convenience store we were rehabbing, and I looked a bit like I had been rolled in flour. I had called my wife and asked her to meet me at the dealership to look at the new trucks we had picked out on their online inventory. Nothing spectacular, but lower end, current-year model, work trucks in the $25K range.

I begin walking around, and a salesman immediately comes out to meet me. You know, the race to you before another salesperson gets to you semi-walk, semi-trot. I guess I wasn’t too aware that I looked like crap rolled in flour, and I could tell as he neared me and slowed down, he had already assessed my net worth at around $50.00.
He handed me his card and shook my hand like he was pulling something out of the trash. I introduced myself and told him I was looking for a new work truck. He apparently didn’t see that I had driven into the lot in a somewhat dirty, but still new looking, 2016 model.

For some reason, as we chatted and he asked what I needed, he steered me to their piece-of-sh*t line. You know the one, all of the old trucks that were a day away from going to the wholesale auction. I looked at them for a few seconds, and then told him I was wanting something a bit higher up the ladder – something new.

He responded by saying that they didn’t have anything less than $25K on the lot that was new, but they had this great 2004 with only 190K on the odometer for only $7,995 with easy financing.
I suppose I had yet to understand that he believed I was not a customer for a new truck, and he kept pushing me at the wonderful, worn out bargains.

Around the same time I told him again that I wanted a new truck, and reached for my wallet to hand him one of my business cards, my wife pulled onto the lot and headed right toward us.

She drives a black 2018 Mercedes S Class. The salesman was still talking to me about 10-year-old trucks as she stopped and climbed out of the car. She took one look at me and laughed because of the way I looked. The salesman, on the other hand, kept looking back and forth between us, and at that moment he may have deduced that he was missing something critical.

I looked at my wife as I handed him my card, and said that I was having a little trouble getting to see the three trucks we had picked out.

Suddenly, in the salesman’s mind, the red lights began to go off. He looked at my business card, blinked a few times and wordlessly pointed to his right, at the new work trucks. He then quietly suggested we go look at them. Before we started to walk, my wife began to brush and slap the remaining drywall dust off of my back and shoulders, and commented on how I looked like a ghost.

We looked at the trucks and picked one out. No test drive, no real discussion, just a nice white 2018 Ford F-150 with no whistles or bells to add to the seven trucks we already have. We finished the paperwork in just a half hour, wrote a check for significantly less than the sticker price, made arrangements to pick up the truck the next morning, and then got ready to leave.

The salesman was standing quietly by the door to the sales manager’s office as I walked out. I shook his hand again and said, ‘One word of advice: never take anything at face value.

It might cost you.’

He got his commission, we got our new truck, and later that week, he sent us a nice thank-you note.” Source
26. This Mechanic Doesn’t Know The Difference Between Automatic And Standard

“I have a couple:

I was an invited keynote speaker at a large (10,000+ attendees) conference. As I was standing in the wings getting ready to go on stage, when a guy handed me a huge armful of heavy AV cables and said, ‘Honey, here’s your workout for the day – bring these to Bob in the back and he’ll show you how to coil them – can’t just get by on those looks, ya’ know.’

I had a distant uncle once try to teach me how to read.

I was in high school at the time, top of my class. When I read out loud to him to prove to him that I was quite capable of reading, he accused me of cheating because he *knew* that Americans aren’t taught to read in school.

My parents had some things engraved for me when I was graduating with my Ph.D. I went to the store to pick them up and the lady behind me in line said, ‘Oh, you’re graduating! How wonderful! You should be sure to go on to college – it’s so important to find an educated husband. Maybe you’ll meet a med student!’
I took my car for routine service once and the main mechanic was busy.

I gave the keys to his assistant who tried to pull it into the service bay, but he couldn’t get my car started. He came to tell me that my car was broken and they’d have to push or tow it in. That was strange – I had driven it to the shop with no problems and was just there for an oil change. I asked if he had put the clutch in. He said of course not – automatic cars don’t have clutches. I said, ‘This isn’t an automatic car – it’s a stick shift.’ He then proceeded to tell me that women can’t drive manual cars – that the ‘stick’ in the middle of my car just changed between drive, reverse, etc., not actual GEARS.

I was arguing with him over why I had a third pedal, why the stick was labeled ‘1..2…3…4…5,’ and where exactly did a ***** need to be inserted for a stick shift to work when the mechanic came over, heard what was going on, and fired him on the spot. Got quite a few free oil changes out of THAT debacle.” Source
25. They Laughed And Waved Her Away!

“When I was 31, I sold the condo I owned and made a nice profit. I purchased a house and held back 30k in cash to tear out the kitchen and install a new one.

Wanting my best friend’s opinion, we went to Home Depot to check out what they had. The very first thing we did was approach the sales desk in the kitchen department where two male employees were sitting. I explained that we needed some help picking out cabinets and countertops. They both LAUGHED at me. One waved his hand at me to go away.

I did.
I ended up hiring a small local private kitchen and cabinet business and LOWE’S for my appliances. Several months later I was in Home Depot and the guy who ‘waved me off’ actually chased me down and sarcastically asked me how my kitchen turned out.

My matter of fact answer included the name of the business I used, the brand of cabinets, how I refinished the antique hardware I bought off eBay as well as a rundown of the appliances and paint I got at LOWE’S. I told him it was worth the $20k I spent and was glad I now had extra to install ductwork and central air. Then I asked him where to find the air filters since LOWE’S was out of the size I needed.

He said nothing. Looked like a deer in headlights. I’m guessing he worked on commission.

I still, almost 20 years later, make all my home improvement purchases at LOWE’S.” Source
24. She Knows Her Car Stuff

“This was about 20 years ago, and it involved a friend.

I had a slow leak in my car tire and took my car to a local car maintenance chain store to have it repaired. They quoted me $20 for the repair and I gave the go ahead.

While I was waiting for the repair, a technician came out and told me that my cabin air filter was dirty and needed to be changed. He showed me what I assumed to be my dirty air filter.

I took my car in for regular maintenance and just had the filter changed a few months before.

I wasn’t car savvy so I didn’t know for sure how long the car cabin air filter should last.

I thought a few months was a bit short for the lifespan, but the filter the technician was showing me was very dirty. I thought maybe I just lived in an extra polluted area, so I agreed to have the air filter replaced for the cost of $50.

A few months later, a friend whom I worked with had a slow leak in her tire. Her husband used to be a mechanic and restored cars as a hobby and maintained her car for her. However, she wasn’t sure whether he had the materials or time for the repair. She needed to drive to an offsite meeting the next day and wanted to get her tire fixed right away.

My tire repair went well and I didn’t have any issues with it afterward. I told her where I got mine repaired and said they did a good job. I forget now why, but I accompanied my friend when she brought her car into the car maintenance shop at lunchtime. They quoted her the same amount – $20 for the repair, and she gave the go ahead.

While we were waiting for the repair, a technician came out to let her know that her cabin air filter was dirty and needed changing. ‘See all the dirt on this? You don’t want to be breathing that.’ The technician held out the air filter to show her how dirty it was.

It was dark as if it had been filtering cigarette smoke. I felt validated. My friend’s filter was as dirty as mine. Perhaps we did live in a high pollution area after all and everyone’s filters just got dirty quickly.
My friend stood up and took the air filter from the technician and turned it over in her hands thoughtfully. She looked up and glared at him angrily. ‘My husband is a mechanic and he maintains my car. I know for a fact that he just changed my cabin air filter three weeks ago.’

My friend’s voice was loud and firm and even though she was barely over 5 feet tall, her demeanor was intimidating.

She now had the attention of everyone in the waiting room. ‘I will NOT be replacing my air filter today. I only need my tire repaired. And I expect when I leave, that my air filter will be as clean as when I brought my car in.’

The technician’s expression was priceless. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ He barely squeaked out his reply and quietly left, his face beet red with embarrassment. It turned out that the shop tried to hit every single customer up for a cabin air filter. It was a quick $50 and most people fell for it.

Although I realized that I’d been scammed, I left the shop happy.

My friend had put the technician in his place and ratted him out to all the other customers in the waiting room. And I would have gladly paid another $50 just to see that look on the guy’s face again.” Source
23. He Was Judged On Something He Was Actively Trying To Fix

“I grew up in New Hampshire where we had well water (without fluoride) and my parents never took me to a dentist. Consequently, by the time I got to college, my teeth were a mess. I took a part-time job just so I could try to afford the dental work I knew I needed.

When I opened my mouth, the dentist looked inside and made a ‘Tsk! Tsk!’ sound. ‘Someone needs to start brushing their teeth and lay off the sugar,’ he said in front of his hygienist. They shared a look of disapproval.

The truth was that as a college athlete on a partial academic scholarship, I ate healthfully and did brush after meals. I found myself shaking with anger and shame which the dentist interpreted as fear. ‘There’s no beating around the bush. You’re going to need a lot of work to save these teeth and it’s going to be expensive,’ he advised.
I got out of the chair, didn’t commit to a second appointment, and the next day, went to another dentist who immediately sensed that the situation was more complicated than a snap judgment.

He asked questions and when I mentioned growing up in New England, he said, ‘I thought so. I used to practice in Vermont and half of my patients were people who didn’t have access to fluoridated water. But don’t worry. I can see that you’ve developed good habits and together we can get you caught up.’

He quoted me prices that were half what the first dentist charged. He put me on a no interest payment plan where, for the next three years, I visited the office sometimes twice a week.

The process was all-consuming and expensive despite the plan and reasonable prices.

There were times when I chose between meals and paying for dental work. I don’t recommend root canals on an empty stomach. But while I was never able to afford orthodontics, to this day, I never lost a tooth.” Source
22. She Got Yelled At For Parking In Her Spot

“It was my first day at a new hospital. I pulled into the lot and parked in a spot reserved for physicians. I was a bit early, so I called my BFF, who is also an OB-Gyn and I was laughing and chatting with her when I hear an angry knock on my window.

I turn to see a white male, in his late 50s to early 60s with his face twisted in anger. I roll down my window and he begins shouting ‘You can’t park here! This is for physicians only!’

So I grab my badge that’s on a stretch string and I place it about 1cm from his face and say ‘I think this gives me permission to park here dude!’No apologies. He just turns on his heels and walks away.

Yes. Black women can be physicians too.
Edit: I’m 40 years old (at that time), so old enough to be a doctor. I’m driving a late model Volvo.

I have a sticker for physician cars on my windshield (he didn’t look). I had on scrubs. I was wearing a badge that said, doctor – which I showed him. I was minding my own business, obviously on a phone call. The lot wasn’t full, there was definitely space for him. He wasn’t assigned to police the parking lot. I was a privileged doctor on this hospital campus, he was a ‘guest’ without full privileges, AND he rudely interrupted my call, frightened me. He was dead wrong in his assumption and never apologized.” Source
21. This “Nurse” Couldn’t Have Messed Up Any Worse

“I am a wheelchair user with an assistance dog.

I’m a lady of a mature age such that if I were good champagne, I would be exceptionally valuable 😉 I’m also overweight, in part due to medication and my medical condition and in part due to me comfort eating.

I had a hospital appointment to see someone in the pain clinic. I would first have a little check-up by a team member before I saw the consultant. The nurse who interviewed me acted very superior. She clucked her tongue and sucked her teeth, rolled her eyes, basically was the ultimate un-professional.

She advised me that the pain was all in my head, that I had ‘subscribed to the sick role,’ and that if I really wanted to, I could get up and leave my chair behind.

She said, ‘there is nothing wrong with you except that you like the attention.’
I asked her if that was the advice of the spinal surgeon. She said, ‘What spinal surgeon? You haven’t had spinal surgery. It’s outrageous that you would fabricate something so extreme to justify your laziness. I’m a nurse, I know how the body works, and I am telling you the only thing wrong with you is that you are lazy.’

I asked her where she trained: She had just finished her nursing course, she told me and was waiting for her PIN. In other words, she was not yet a nurse.

‘Does the NMC (the nursing registration body) know you are telling people you are a nurse?’ I smiled as I said.

‘I’m more a nurse than YOU are’ she replied. So I wrote down her name, thanked her for her advice, and left.

Well, I had a meeting the next day at the NMC as a committee member, so I took the opportunity to make a formal complaint about both her calling herself a nurse, and, about her conduct. I also made a complaint at the hospital, with a copy of my NMC complaint.
Someone at the hospital asked me to come in and answer questions about the complaint, as it was headed for a disciplinary.

When I got there, I was asked if the ‘nurse’s’ representative could ask me a few questions. I agreed and was shown to a room in which ‘nurse’ and her union rep sat.

‘Beth, it’s so nice to see you!’ said her union rep, a colleague of mine both in our nursing union and at one time in our workplace. She turned to the ‘nurse’ and said, ‘You do know Beth is a Consultant nurse, and does our training on equality and diversity, right?’ The look ‘nurse’ gave was priceless. I tried so hard not to be smug, but I am certain I failed miserably.

In the end, she agreed to apologize, she agreed she was wrong and asked for the opportunity to improve her practice. I hope she learned to not judge a book by its cover.

I also learned later that she had looked at the wrong patient’s notes before she saw me, so had no idea of my genuine problems.

Because I am a wheelchair user, I get condescended to and patronized all the time, but this time was especially upsetting because she called me a liar, as if I didn’t know my own health condition.” Source
20. She Didn’t Have To Try To Get Him To Show His True Colors…

“I was walking my dog around the marina and I was going back to my dad’s boat.

I saw a couple standing next to it. I walked down to the end of the dock and the guy told me only boat owners are allowed on the docks, and I have to get out. Then he turned to the woman and was telling her about the places he’s been on his boat, and how he has to find someone to clean it – all this time he was pointing at my dad’s boat.

I was just standing there wondering what’s going on. Then he told me that if I’m lucky enough I’ll find a rich guy like him, and told me to go away before he called security.

The woman said I’ll have to find some other guy because he’s taken. She made a face at me and was hugging him. I tried going around them and he asked what I’m doing. I told him I was getting on my dad’s boat, and they both laughed at me.
Then Ed (one of the crew) came out from the back of the boat and told me dinner is ready. I told him I’ll be right up as soon as these idiots got out of my way. I stuck my tongue out at the woman and said he’s all yours. She got mad and walked away.

The guy was following her and she kept yelling at him to stay away and how he’s a fake. Tom (another crew) opened the side door and asked me what’s going on….I said she didn’t like him as much as she thought she did.” Source
19. He Showed Everybody How A College Education Pays Off

“How about when ‘more educated’ is looked at condescendingly?

Don’t try to bring your college ‘book learning’ to do a man’s job …

My wife’s brother was remodeling a part of his country house. They had arranged for their uncle, an electrician, to come from his home 2 hrs away to help with the wiring part of the job.

We, also 2 hrs away in another direction, were ‘home’ visiting her parents who lived just up the lane from her brother. So when Uncle came down, her dad and I all went over to visit and help.

One of the lights was to have what they call a ‘3-way switch,’ meaning it could be operated from 2 different switches across the room from each other.

When Uncle got ready to install the switches, he began to mumble, ‘Blah blah @$@& blah blah… these are extra switches I had left over and I left the boxes at home that have the wiring diagram for 3-way switches on them … blah blah … forgot … Well, I’ll just try it; I think I remember.’
So they started trying it flying blind; Uncle Electric working on one switch on one side of the room; and telling wife’s dad what to connect on the other, while brother flipped circuit breaker on and off.

Fail. Tried another way: failed.

Meanwhile, I’m a useless ‘yung-un’, skinny, long-haired, bearded, freaky freshman in college. I asked a question or two about ‘positives’ and ‘negatives’ and ‘grounds’ and ‘hots’ … trying to decipher the language they were using.

He was rather impatient with me – not ugly, but I could tell he didn’t want to waste time with my silly, useless questions, as he was already embarrassed and trying to recover his pride and get the job done. I asked another and he condescendingly joked …

‘What? Do you think you’re going to figure this out? Is your college education gonna help you with this one? Your book-learning teach you how to wire houses??”

I just said I thought I might be able to figure it out.

He grunted a laugh … ‘Yeah, I’d like to see that.’

Well, we had just been doing logic switch diagrams in logic class. I thought, electricity, computers, switches … this has to make sense…So I worked a few diagrams while they kept experimenting and failing.

The race was on. If they lucked out before I got a solution, they would never know it and I would forever be the ‘college boy’ trying to do ‘pencil work’ while they did the real work.
Yes! Uncle finally said, ‘I give up; I’ll have to get that diagram and come back (a 2 hr drive) another weekend.’

I had just finished what I thought was a solution.

I usually like to check my work and be sure, but no time. I piped up and said: ‘Try this …’ and proceeded to tell them ‘… black wire to the silver screw on this one; red wire to …. and so on.’ I could feel my heart beating in my throat. He was insulted I’d even offered but I asked:

‘What have you got to lose? It doesn’t work now. If you try my idea and it doesn’t work, you lose the 5 minutes it takes to redo the screws. If I’m right, you save yourself 4 hrs of driving. It’s got to be worth a try.’

Wife’s dad, her brother, and brother’s wife are all looking at Uncle and me.

Spotlight on!

Uncle pauses. He looks impatient and embarrassed but is caught with the rationale: the cost-benefit ratio is pretty strong.

So, very reluctantly, he agrees, and has me repeat my instructions one at a time … and in the process, says something like, ‘You know if this works ….eh … ugh…’ and doesn’t finish the sentence but it’s pregnant with implications of how humiliated and embarrassed he would be.

I continue, and he implements each connection, cocking and nodding his head with a, ‘yeah; OK … oh, right …’ as if not expecting it to work, and being able to save face: ‘I told ya…’ but yet also maybe hoping it will work to save him another trip but at the price of eating a whole lot of crow that we’ll all dish on him forever! He’s truly in the midst of an internal dilemma now.

The final connection is done, and my heart is fluttering. At first, I had thought, ‘just thought I’d give it a try; I’ve got nothing to lose’ – but after all the dismissal, my whole path in life is at stake! I’m like: ‘Please work!’

And it did. Perfectly.
My wife’s dad belted out a big ol’ laugh and looked at me with a ‘you done good’ look. Even though he loved the guy, he’d always thought his sister’s husband to be a bit of a cocky blowhard ‘know it all’. Uncle tried to say a few things, but couldn’t get anything coherent to come out of his mouth.

Wife’s dad stood up, laughing, and said, ‘Well I believe we have dinner ready next door, so let’s all go eat. I don’t know if she’s cooked enough crow for uncle or not, though!’

They eased off on the fella a little through lunch … but not too easy. ‘Dad’ relished telling the story to his wife and mine… upon which they lavished praise on me. Uncle barked a bit but was beginning to laugh it off. He came around and was appreciative of the success. But you could tell; along with all of that fried chicken, field peas, corn, potatoes, and biscuits, he was swallowing a whole lot of crow.

I had earned my way!” Source
18. She Made Such A Scene, She Sneaks In To Buy It Now

“I once was part of management in a cosmetics store in Chelsea, London. I had already worked in the same company for a couple of years and had been mostly responsible for training our staff in different locations on ingredients, products, and ethical buying. I am rather ‘young’ looking so many people just assumed I was a temp when they first met me.

(This is, by the way, one of my favorite stories)

On this particular day, a lady came strutting into the shop. She was a white, middle-aged, classical Chelsea woman (For those who don’t know Chelsea it’s one of the wealthiest parts of London).

She came up to the counter and started screaming at me right away, ‘how dare you to sell these products?’ I was completely bedazzled at that moment because I have had some difficult customers before but no one who had just come in screaming. I asked her calmly and politely what had happened and which product she meant.
‘There is formaldehyde in your natural dry shampoo! It’s disgusting! I can’t believe you would sell something like this. I want to speak to your superior.’

Knowing the product, I was completely confused. I told her that I was superior on shift and that I was sure we did not put formaldehyde in our products.

I showed her the ingredient list on the back of the product that she had nearly thrown at me.

‘It has limonene which turns into formaldehyde in the air. I read it in the daily telegraph. You have no idea! I want a personal apology from your CEO or I will sue you and believe me I have enough money to do so.’ She exclaimed enraged. Of course, this is impossible since we have a customer care team which is who I recommend her to call as I was quite frankly over her screaming at me.
I then tried to explain to her that limonene was naturally occurring in the natural grapefruit oil in the product but she just continued screaming, ‘Science changes every day, you have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She then took out a piece of paper and wrote her email on it and threw it at me.

She said that if she doesn’t hear back from me personally this week she’ll get me fired and take it to her lawyers. She then left the shop.

Once I had calmed down, I actually did write her the email referencing the article that I found on the Internet which she initially referred to (from the Telegraph). The article spoke about artificially scented candles which use artificial limonene. If lit, it can turn into small amounts of formaldehyde which are (if one is concerned, you’d have to burn so many of them in a close off room) easily disposed of by opening the window every now and then.

Our product, unless she set loads (and I mean loads) of it on fire in a closed room, wouldn’t have the same effect as it is virtually impossible.

I wrote her this, in the loveliest tone, back in an email spiked with about 10 different references about the topic (I was so proud of this email). I didn’t hear back from her until she was in roughly a month later WEARING SUNGLASSES IN THE SHOP buying the same bottle of dry shampoo.” Source
17. He Didn’t Like The Tone Of The Man’s Voice, So He Rubbed It In A Little

“A few years ago I used to park my car during work days in the garage beneath the Mandarin Oriental hotel in San Francisco.

One day, after work I was standing in the garage near the payment window, waiting for the valet to bring my car up from below. I was wearing basic khakis and a button-down shirt. Above the left breast pocket, the shirt had the logo of a company that I was the CFO of at the time. Basically, I was a generic looking Hispanic guy in what could be mistaken for a type of uniform.

A man exited the elevator bank, surveyed the scene, and then walked up to me and handed me his parking ticket. I thanked him and then informed him that he had to pay at the window before his car could be brought up.

He turned to the window and began the process of paying for his parking. Ordinarily, I would have told the man I was not the valet, but something about his tone and demeanor made me think he needed a dose of humility.
The real valet then drove up in my Porsche 911 S4 cabriolet. Arctic silver with a navy blue convertible top. It was a beautiful car. When idling it sounded like a purring, but easily angered tiger.

I walked to the driver’s side of the car, got in, and lowered the top. I had a cigar case on the passenger seat (that’s why I had a convertible).

I made a show of opening it and pondering my selection. I chose a Cohiba Siglo IV because it had the brightest yellow, most distinctive, and recognizable cigar band.

As I was snipping the end of the cigar, the other man’s car was brought up behind mine. I said to the man, ‘Nice Taurus.’ Then I popped the cigar into my mouth, and slowly drove up to the exit ramp.

The look on his face was a priceless embarrassment, maybe a bit of humility.” Source
16. He Outsmarted Everyone In Court With A Scientific Observation

“Once, yes. Although in its context it wasn’t especially condescending, I got the last word, literally.

I was driving in downtown Toronto when the light was about to change, and the car in front of us started making its left turn. Just then, another car came careening out of nowhere, ran the light, and barrelled right into them. A woman in the back was badly hurt but survived. The driver of the (huge) offending car was seriously speeding and appeared inebriated.

I gave a statement at the scene, and weeks later was called by their attorney because my statement was the most detailed, so I was asked to testify, which I did. I don’t ‘dress up,’ and didn’t for my court appearance, just slacks and a regular button-down shirt.

I was in my early 30s but looked much younger, so they probably assumed I was not long out of college.
The defense attorney asked me a bunch of questions, including my estimate of how fast the guy was going. I said between 45 and 50 mph, which was definitely speeding for downtown. Then he played a little lawyerly trick, asking a leading question: ‘You do know that things coming towards you appear to be moving much faster than they really are?’

So, I replied, ‘Actually, the psychophysics of it works pretty much the opposite way; things in perpendicular motion appear to be moving faster than those parallel to you.’ I don’t think he was expecting to hear ‘psychophysics’ in my answer.

The judge asked me to state whether I had a background in science, so I simply said: ‘I’m a professor at the University of Toronto, and have undergrad and doctoral degrees from MIT.’

The lawyer dismissed me right after that. Oops.” Source
15. He Doesn’t Believe Who The Truth Author Of The Book Is

“This likely isn’t the best example in my life, but it’s the most ridiculous and stand out one in my mind right now.

A bit of background – I look younger than I am, especially out of work clothes. I mean, I barely look like I’m allowed to drink. Another important fact, I have the same precise initials as my father.

So that causes some hiccups regularly. But my sister and I went to see our dad one holiday because his job had moved him to Iowa (Sorry anyone from Iowa, but I was raised two blocks from the beach. 40 degrees is freezing to me). I hated Iowa, but the Iowa Writer’s Workshop was near my dad’s house, and the IWW is sort of my Mecca.
I had finished grad school, was teaching in a large university and working on my post-grad. My dad ushered us around the campus a bit, and I ducked into a bookstore. My dad likes to read but is very particular.

My sister does not like to read but she bore with me. As I nosed around, an employee (perhaps a late 50s old hipster) began following us, asking if we needed help. We didn’t, said so nicely, and I looked around again. On the middle table was a small display of my published thesis.

I picked one up mostly because it was mine. And it had made it to general publication and distribution. I never know which schools use copies of my book, so this was the first time I had seen it.
The man popped back up again and tried to tell me it was a $150 textbook and to leave it alone.

Two problems there: I know the price, and he was getting snotty about my touching MY book. He continued with, ‘If you need textbooks, go get your father and I will show you what you need for which classes.’

I told him, ‘Oh, ha, no. I’m a professor. This is my textbook.’

Somehow in his mind that turned into, ‘My father’s a professor and he wrote it.’ He turned to my father and walked to be face-to-face. ‘You wrote this? Would you sign?’ My dad was confused, I was confused, my sister laughed.

‘Sir, I wrote it.’ I reiterated.

He looked at me like I was high.

‘Sir, the school uses your book for probably 4 different classes.’

I’m still confused, but who wouldn’t get excited about that. But I was also getting pissed. ‘Look, dude, this. is. my. book.’ My dad nodded, and older bookstore man turned and walked off, essentially with his nose in the air. Hey, I’d have signed a few copies, but I guess that’s not what he wanted.

A few minutes later, my dad bought me a book (hey, I never turn down a book, and my dad made roughly 7 times what I did every year. So will I let him spring for a book? **** yes.) Now, of course, my father’s card had the same initials as I had on the book spine.

I wasn’t buying a copy of my own book, but I suppose it stuck out to the sales clerk. ‘So you ARE the professor,’ he said to my dad. My dad shook his head.
I grabbed my dad’s card out of the clerk’s hand and gave him mine. Same initials but I have a small photo of me for particular situations like this (where my dad and I are confused, I mean). ‘I wrote that. And it doesn’t cost $150. My publisher charges $47 for a hardback and $20-something for a softback. Do the students here not know to look for their books online first?’

There was a decent number of students in the store, so he looked around a bit panicked to make sure no one heard me.

‘Ohhhhhh, you’re gouging them.’ I looked back, one student had my book in her hands, and I go ‘Hey, hun. Rush order that book from blah blah website. You’ll save almost $100.’ The student was a bit taken aback but got her phone out.

‘You can’t advertise for a different company in here.’ The clerk was irritated.

‘I ***ume you or the school h*******ome type of contract with my publisher. And I’m sure they didn’t agree for you to triple the price and keep the difference. I’ll call them now if you’d like.’

He finally got this slightly horrified look of recognition. I could have that book pulled and make the students have to order it online.

Would I have, no? Did it look like I would, yes!
Now, I know this sounds a bit like a ‘do you know who I am?’ but I worked my *** off on that book, and it was the first time I had seen it in a store. I also worked my *** off for that degree, so I really wasn’t in the mood for this man just outright denying the possibility of it being mine. We walked back out to the street and made sister pick a place to eat after that.” Source
14. He May Look Young, But He’s Lived A Thousand Lives

“Once, an old lady on the bus approached me.

Long story short, she addressed how spoiled we kids are nowadays (I was 18 at the time, but I guess she assumed I was 14-15 since I look very young) and we have no idea what hard work, struggling and poverty means anymore. She saw me playing on my phone, having 3 shopping bags with me, wearing expensive clothing etc. According to the way she was talking, she must have thought I was a 14-15-year-old pretentious boy who got money from his rich parents to go out shopping, buy and do whatever he wants. Being naive and knowing nothing about the dark side of the world while living in endless undeserved, underappreciated comfort.

I didn’t respond much since I had to go off the bus to the next station and I was feeling too uncomfortable about the situation anyway.
So again, according to this woman, I look like a 14-15-year-old spoiled, rich, pretentious boy who knows nothing about the world and never had to struggle a bit or work hard to accomplish anything.

In reality, I’m a 19-year-old **** and domestic violence survivor who got beaten, mentally abused and neglected as a child until I was 12, struggled with PTSD, severe social anxiety, a major stuttering problem, and depression for years. I was bullied and tortured at school, was losing my best friend to ******* when I was 14 and it was even me who discovered his body.

I wore the old, broken clothing from my brother since we were so poor we had to choose between food and clothing. Most of the money was spent on my father’s alcohol addiction anyway. I almost got kicked out of school and got in serious problems with the law when I was just 15.
Luckily, I managed to get back on track. I started an apprenticeship (work system here in Austria is different than in the US) and worked very ****** hard to get my life back, get over my PTSD, especially social anxiety and depression. I finished my education and got a good success award which I was so proud of.

I have a good profession and a well-paid job now and bought myself a car, live in my own apartment, have many good friends and a great relationship. I had to work my *** off for this life and had to grow up at a young age.

I just don’t look like it. You should never judge a book by its cover. And even though this old lady didn’t mean to be rude, it still highly offended me. I regret staying silent and not defending myself in front of her because this could have been a life lesson for her.” Source
13. She Told A Woman To “Know Her Place” When Really, She Didn’t Know Her Own

“I’ve worked in critical care as a nurse since 1982.

After many years as a critical care nurse, I had a serious back injury requiring surgery and months of rehab. Because I could not meet the physical requirements of my job, I couldn’t go back to work as a nurse, but the step-down unit had a monitor tech out on maternity leave. A monitor tech is responsible for continuous monitoring of the heart rhythms of patients in the step-down unit. They sit at the monitor station, where every patient’s rhythm is transmitted, and watch for changes in heart rhythm that could signal a change (for good or for ill) in the patient’s condition.

That was just a small part of my job as a critical care nurse and didn’t require any walking or lifting, so I was well-qualified to cover as a monitor tech.
The cardiologists all knew me from working with me in ICU, and most of the older nurses in the step-down knew me from transferring patients back and forth, from the Advanced Cardiac Life Support classes and from working with me on various hospital-wide committees. But there was a fairly inexperienced nurse who had transferred into the step down after failing to complete her orientation in another one of the ICUs in the hospital – we’ll call her Susan.

I was watching the monitors one morning, and Susan’s patient flipped into a dangerous arrhythmia and while I was reaching for the record button, flipped back out again. Nevertheless, I paged Susan to advise her of the change. She didn’t say thank you, just grunted and hung up on me. But now I was watching that patient closely and he flipped in and out, in and out of the dangerous rhythm. I called Susan several more times, but she didn’t seem concerned. The charge nurse was concerned, though, and paged the cardiologist. When the cardiologist came up to the step-down unit, his first stop was at the monitor station to ask about his patient’s rhythm.

I showed him the strips I had captured and discussed the frequency of the changes, when it started, etc. He was concerned and wrote several orders for various tests and treatments. When he was done writing orders and had gone off to see his patient, the secretary paged Susan to the desk to see the orders that had been written. When she saw the orders, obviously aimed at the rhythm change I had noted, she freaked out.
‘You have NO BUSINESS going to the doctors about MY patient behind my back. You’re just a monitor tech and I am THE NURSE! You need to know your place!’

Suddenly, there was dead silence in the nurse’s station.

The charge nurse, the secretary, and a visiting nephrologist stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Susan. Even a few passing visitors stopped and looked. And then I heard the voice of the cardiologist say, very quietly. ‘If you had taken Advanced Cardiac Life Support, you would know Ruby. She’s the instructor. She certified me when I was still a medical student. She’s been working in the ICU since before I was a doctor, and if Ruby says the patient had V-tach, he had V-tach.’

Susan didn’t last very long in the step-down unit, either. I hear she owns a bar now.” Source
12. She Was Too Busy To Learn How To Put In A Roll Of Register Tape

“I had decided to take some time off from professional life to make some decisions, etc.

long story on that one… But I needed benefits. I had taken a job at Seven Eleven. I had finished training and worked exactly one shift. My boss comes in and asks if I can go to another store for a couple of hours. Someone is supposed to come in but there was a problem and they needed someone to cover part of the morning shift. I say ‘sure’ and drive to this store.

When I get there, the clerk that was working almost hugged me. She had just pulled a sixteen-hour shift. She told me that the store was usually pretty quiet on Saturday mornings, good luck and then she left.

It was quiet for the first part of the shift and then, all **** broke loose. No one had mentioned that there was a biker rally at the park nearby. I am doing okay. Still learning, but holding my own.
The store is suddenly slammed. And then I run out of register tape. No problem, I just have to put in a new tape. And, how the **** do you do that? I tried and tried and was almost in tears. I was ringing stuff up so it would be in the computer but I couldn’t give out a single receipt. Most people were pretty nice and then there was this one jerk.

He wanted a receipt. I pulled out a pad and prepared to write a handwritten receipt. This guy starts mouthing off that won’t do. You need to go back to school and get an education. I don’t know if that would do any good if you’re not even smart enough to work at a convenience store. He was being a real *** and some of the folks in line were beginning to come to my defense. I was getting pretty upset. And then he commented that even a trained monkey could do this job – and I broke.
I slid the pad across the counter and asked him to write down his name and address and I would see that he was mailed a receipt.

I was mad and using that very cold steel voice that I had learned to use with drunken and destructive college students. The guy came back with some comment that he wasn’t sure if he could depend on someone who couldn’t even change a register tape to get him a receipt. With that, I pulled off my collegiate class ring that very clearly indicated that I had a Masters and a Specialist in Education. I held it about two inches from his nose and said, ‘Sorry buddy, but between learning how to run a university, do clinical ***essments, and write grants, the university didn’t have time to teach me how to change ****** register tape.’
The guy’s jaw dropped as he looked at the ring.

What I did not know (because I had never met her) is that my boss’s boss had just stepped into the store. She came up and started to get behind the counter saying that she would change the tape. I stopped her and held my hand out telling her that unless she could show me some ID, she had best not even think about touching that register. She was kind of shocked but pulled out something indicating who she was. She then changed the register tape, called my boss to find out who I was and get the story about what had happened and all was well.” Source
11. These Two Need Som Sensitivity Training – STAT

“I was practicing law, and I worked at a computer engineering firm.

A good 20 years ago. We could literally wear anything we wanted to work. Hence it was a bit difficult to discern various job duties or titles. Most of us surfed, the atmosphere was very laid back.

Additionally, this was a large company, we all didn’t know each other personally.

I just leased a new Range Rover (lovely ride) and I got to work, parked and made my way in. As I am making my way to my office, two engineers approached and made a snarky comment.

‘I think we pay secretaries way too much,’ said one to the other.

I said, ‘I’m sorry? Come again?’

The other chimes in, ‘Yah how much are they paying you? I mean seriously? You know I went to college for my job, you don’t see me in a Range Rover…’
I didn’t really know where to begin? Part of me wanted to unleash a fury of verbal assaults, the other part wanted to bust out laughing.

Ironically, we were standing outside my office. I didn’t say a word, I simply pointed to my name and title posted on the outside of my door.

The two baboons stared at the name on the door, stared at me, stared again at the name and title for what seemed to be hours.
I just kept eye contact, thinking eventually they would catch on and go away.

Nope, the louder of the 2, chimes, ‘Oh so you’re a secretary lawyer…?’

Holy ****… I made a fast call to the HR director and put together some basic sensitive training – 101 stuff. I was a good sport, but they may not be so lucky next time around.

To drive the point home, the HR director and I brought both of them in for a brief education. By this time the insult had truly marinated. The baboons put everything together at this point and I could literally hear them sweating. Once they put it all together, I got an apology. Never assume…” Source
10. She Should Have Said What Was On Her Mind

“My husband and I were newly married and I was still working at my old waitress job. One day, I decided that if Madonna could wear crosses on her ears, I could wear my husband’s phi beta kappa key on a gold chain around my neck.

While serving two glasses of Chablis (yeah, it was THAT long ago), to two 30-ish women in business suits with briefcases near their feet, one of them looked directly at the key and said, ‘Is that really yours?’ I unabashedly and proudly stated that it was my husband’s…

I wasn’t expecting what she said next, ‘Maybe you should quit this junk job and get one of your own.’ Flustered, and speaking as if from a hollow barrel, I said numbly, ‘Oh, I’m 5 years older than my husband. That was a long time ago for me,’ and I quickly walked away before they could query me further.

The only part of that statement that was true was the age differential between me and my husband. My head was swirling, but I knew I couldn’t let her get away with that assumption and disrespect for my line of work. Later, I thought a better remark, more befitting my loyalty to my working-class roots might have been, ‘Now, now, Sweetie, that’s no way to talk to someone who handles your food before you put it in your mouth.'”Source
9. He Thought The Guy Was Homeless

 

“I witnessed this in Walgreen’s in Midtown Houston.

This is an urban area in ‘transition’ so there are a lot of rich people who work or live near downtown as professionals as well as a lot of homeless people.

They co-exist nicely, and the rich folks are very generous with panhandlers. It’s also a very diverse international city, and sometimes foreign professionals misread situations, based on their own cultural norms.

We all judge people by their attire and demeanor, as you shall see. I got in the checkout line, and I was third.

The first guy was an Indian in a Brioni suit with a young boy in Oshkosh B’Gosh overalls. I was thinking, ‘petroleum engineer on a work visa.’ The second guy was about 6O with a scruffy beard, wearing a faded MIT tee shirt, 1980s super-small basketball shorts like Larry Bird, dirty Nikes and carrying a small backpack.

I was thinking, ‘Rice University professor and former 1960s radical out for a jog.’
Mr. Brioni got his change, turned to Professor Scruffy, and tried to hand him $4 bucks.

At first, Scruffy wasn’t getting it, but then a look of rage crossed his face: ‘You THINK I’m a bum?’ Brioni picked up his kid and purchase and sprinted out the door.

Scruffy paid for his two bottles of wine with a silver American Express card, stuffed his wine into his backpack, and left in a high state of pisstivity.

Bad day all around. Had I been second in line instead of third, I’d be $4 richer.

I only have a green Amex and would’ve taken the money.” Source
8. She’s A Female In A Hardware Store

“I’m not so sure that the guys working in the huge home improvement/lumberyard thought I was poor, but they sure thought I was ‘uneducated’ about building materials.

My dad was an architect and I spent many an hour learning all about construction, tools, woods, etc. I also worked (as a young teenager) with the father of friends (a contractor) and by the time I was an adult, I knew my way around building sites and could tell you just about anything you might need to know about the construction trade.

I also renovated 3 heritage homes in my 30s and 40s with little help (no man around the house!!)

So, fast forward to me at 56 years old, going to the local Home Depot for some wood trim. The hubby went off somewhere else in the store and I went to the trim racks, picked out what I wanted and took it to the contractor counter to have it cut shorter because it was 12′ lengths and I wanted the pieces in 6′ lengths.
The one guy behind the counter said, ‘What can I do for ya Missy?’ I replied, ‘Well, Sonny, I need these cut in half.’ Two other workers then appeared at the counter and the first guy says to me (while jabbing his co-worker in the ribs and hyuck hyucking), ‘Oh, we don’t cut wood here.’ I blanked for a moment and said, ‘What?’ He replied, ‘Nope.

Sorry. We don’t cut wood here,’ while laughing.

I stood there with a stupid look on my face and at that moment, my husband walked up behind me and said: ‘What’s going on here?’ I turned to him and said, ‘These YAHOOS are telling me that they don’t cut trim down here.’ My hubby looked up at them and said: ‘What the *** are you talking about?’
Suddenly, all 3 of them are apologizing and saying it was just a joke and blah blah blah. The hubby picked the trim up off the counter about a foot high, dropped it down again and said, ‘Well, I guess we will buy our supplies elsewhere,’ and we walked out.

I called the store manager when I got home, told him everything but have no idea what happened because we haven’t been back there since. I have many more stories about being treated like an idiot (apparently because I am female) in hardware stores and building supply stores… gets really tiresome, especially when it turns out that I know more than the clerk does.” Source
7. He Completely Misread His Female Client

“In my youth, I wanted to sell cars because I thought I would make millions. I was working for a Ford dealership and was being mentored by a ten-year vet.

Dale told me that women are the easiest target as they are stupid in nature and know nothing about cars.

You just had to sweet talk them and tell them they were pretty and they would do whatever you want.

The first week I was being trained by Dale, a woman pulled into the lot. She was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. She was dressed like a stripper with stiletto heels, mini skirt about the length of a belt and a low cut top that showed off her breasts. Dale immediately started his fake southern accent saying, ‘Hello you purty thing what can I do for you?’
She said she was looking to buy something that would tow the boat her boyfriend bought her.

We had a $300 sale on Escorts at the time. Dale started to tell her that this Escort would pull that boat up a mountain, it had so much horsepower. The lady said no it doesn’t!

Dale tells her, ‘Little lady, I’ve been selling cars for ten years I think I know what I’m talking about.’

The lady looks him in the eye and says I’ve been a mechanic for eight years and I absolutely know what I’m talking about.’

She spun on her heels and clicked clacked off the lot.” Source
6. She’s The Teacher – And She Knows Her Stuff

“I am an IT teacher who lacks the Y chromosome, and that has caused a few condescending moments over my years of teaching.

Personally, I have never found that my lack of Y has kept me from repairing a computer, setting up a network, or teaching the same – but I digress.

The first day in my current job, which is a sweet half-day program for high school students who are interested in careers in IT-I was the new teacher, obviously. I replaced a man who had taught there for many years.

All students in our school must apply and be interviewed and be accepted into the program, so even though most of the students had not had the previous teacher, they had all met him.

One of my new kids walks in, stops dead in his tracks and stares at me.
‘Where’s the man?’

‘He moved. I’m your teacher now. My name is Tory.’

‘But I need the man.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine with me. I’ve been teaching this for many years.’

‘But I bonded with the man!’

Of course, he’d talked to ‘the man’ for about ten minutes about five months before and they’d bonded so much he couldn’t even remember the man’s name, but apparently, that bond was important to him.

‘I’m sure you’ll bond with me too.’

‘I don’t think so.’

He did. He was fine and enjoyed the year.

Another year, I was in my classroom after Open House, straightening up, when a gentleman comes in, obviously in a hurry and obviously looking for someone. Somehow, I just knew he was looking for me, but not me, a male version of me. I watched him jet about the room, looking in my office, looking in the storage room, completely ignoring THE TEACHER STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM.
Finally, after letting him suffer for a few minutes, I said, ‘May I help you?’

‘Yes. I’m looking for the teacher of this class.’

‘That would be me,’ and I stuck out my hand for a handshake.

The look I got. I am petite, blonde, and not a man. He slowly raised his hand and shook mine (weakly, I might add), ‘Oh. Uh. Okay. My son is in your class.’

The conversation went on and he felt the need to ‘quiz’ me on my knowledge, apparently to ensure I was intelligent enough to teach the class. I passed because I do know my stuff.

The next day, I said to the kid whose dad it was, ‘Hey, you didn’t tell your dad I was a woman, did you?’ He laughed and admitted he didn’t because he was afraid he’d pull him out of my class.

But he did say dad was pretty impressed.
My hope is that my boys (and I do teach almost all boys) learn that women can do anything men can do and there is no such thing as a ‘man’s job’ in my classroom. They do all have, or come to have, respect for my knowledge. I also try every year to bring more women into the program, but alas it just isn’t happening the way I would hope.” Source
5. She Put Him In His Place In Front Of All The Passengers

“It was back in the late ’80s. I was living in a spare room of a friend’s house who knew that I got priced out of my apartment, so he let me stay until I got enough saved for a new place.

It also put me about 2.5 miles away from the bus stop where I took it to work. Since bus service was nonexistent in the area at the time, I had to get up and out of the house by 4 am to catch the first run at 5:15 am. Yeah, I walked in the dark during the fall and winter months and with weather changes, so you learn to dress accordingly.

The first run also meant you can snag a seat, so I got one in the front. And it was also a 45-minute ride, so you drank your coffee, read a newspaper, book, whatever.

One guy, who I didn’t know was eyeing me all this time, sat down next to me. Nicely dressed in a suit and nothing out of place. He then asked me why I was dressed like a ‘*****.’
I am now awake.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Do you know that dressing like that isn’t going to get you anywhere or anything in this world?’

He then proceeded on how he was on his way to his new job, and he got this new suit. Everything was brand new except the underwear he put on. I didn’t retort due it was very early in the morning and yelling at the twit would be frowned upon by the other riders, and the bus driver would kick me off and make me walk the rest of the way.

‘How much was your suit?’ I asked.

He gives me a double stare.

‘Probably more than you know,’ he says defensively.

I looked him in the eye.

‘Dude, let me give you a lesson. One, I work in a warehouse, head of shipping and drive a forklift, hence the outfit. Second, I dress for warmth, not a fashion show, as the runway is a loading ramp for a truck. I’ve been at this job for 15 years, probably before you were even thought of. And I make more money than what you put into that suit, into a real suit, not something that was probably a Goodwill brand.’

(Now at this time, other riders are catching wind of the conversation and some are giggling.)
‘And,’ I said before my stop, ‘don’t judge on the first try.

It can cost you.’ And I exited. I could’ve sworn I heard hands clapping.

And the guy? Well, it did cost him. Learned from one of the regular riders (and you can’t make this up) that he pulled his condescending comments on another female that didn’t dress for success. The female was the daughter of his boss.” Source
4. He Rides First Class Every Time

“When I was a kid, my father accepted a job in the Netherlands. We were a basic lower middle-class family: at-home mom, used cars, real milk mixed half with milk powder because it was cheaper that way, a starter home with bare walls because we couldn’t afford decorations yet, but enough for toys for the kids and the occasional trip to Dairy Queen.

One of the perks of living abroad is that the company paid for us to go back to the US once a year. Now, this was at a time when air travel was still a luxury: the airlines handed out free flight bags, planes were half empty, the kids got a tour of the cockpit mid-flight, etc. No one else I knew had even been on a plane, let alone intercontinental.
When I was about eight, we were returning to the Netherlands, and a flight delay caused us to miss our domestic connection. Back then, flights were fully refundable, so my father decided not to wait and to take a train instead.

First class, because we were tired, and the company would pay for it. There was a tight connection in Utrecht, but we could make it. We were pretty beat up looking after three weeks traveling and an overnight flight, toting loads of beat-up suitcases.

In Utrecht, everybody was assigned a bag to carry, and we ran across the platform. I got there first, being a goal-oriented boy on a mission. I hauled my case into first class.
A well-dressed woman, middle-aged, probably on a shopping trip, stopped me and said: ‘Dit is de eerste klas hoor, jongetje’ (‘This is first class, little boy’ – with that ‘hoor’ thrown in which, basically means ‘you should know better’).

I instantly hated this woman. How dare she treat me, an international jet setter, like a baby. I was a shy kid but whip-smart, and I really hated the way adults often spoke to me.

I swallowed my shyness, looked her in the eye and said (in Dutch) ‘Thank you, I know. I always travel first class.’ Source
3. “Where Are You From?” Can Mean So Many Different Things

“I was at the airport, I was tired and was traveling with my pajamas. This woman that was sitting next to me offered me an orange juice. I replied thank you but I am not thirsty.

She asked where I am from. I responded I am from the Caribbean. She asked, where in the Caribbean? I said Haiti. She immediately assumes I am poor and uneducated. She asked if I take ESL courses, I said no, I do not. She said but you speak English well. I said thank you. She started to patronize me, saying, I am sorry about the extreme poverty in your country, it’s terrible being so poor, thank goodness you are in the US now, you’ll get free education and there is a government program available but it’s going to be much better than where you came from.

She then went into her purse and started looking for candy and things to give me. The hostess called in for first class. I get up and get in line, and the woman looked at me all confused and said they didn’t call you, they are calling for first class. I responded, yeah I know. She looked was in disbelief! I was like by the way, I grew up in New York. She started to apologize for the assumption.” Source
2. This Cashier Is Going Places

“I worked at Trader Joe’s for 3 years while I was pursuing my Ph.D. One day, a woman and her granddaughter came through my lane.

The girl, about 12, remarked that she thought it would be fun to work at Trader Joe’s someday. Her grandmother winked at her and said, ‘Oh I think you can do a little better than that.’

I continued scanning her groceries and said, ‘Keep it in mind if you’re ever in school getting your Ph.D. The flexible hours and benefits are great so you can focus on your studies.’ I looked directly at the grandmother and said, ‘At least that’s how it’s working out for me.’

The woman was embarrassed, but I continued, talking again to the granddaughter. ‘And, just remember, a job you love and enjoy is the most important part.’
This is just ONE example of hundreds.

Customers coming through my lane acting as though the only reason for me being there was because I was too dumb, too lazy, too whatever to be their equal. I worked with people with their MBA, artists, and people who didn’t have a college degree but were the hardest workers I’ve ever known before or since.” Source
1. He Looks Like A Stoner But Works Like An Engineer

“In 1980 I was living a pretty comfy life as an aerospace engineer, but I came off as a long-haired stoner, beach bum (I wasn’t really, it was just my rock guitarist persona). I wish I had a dollar for every person who gave me the, ‘You know, if you cut your hair and learned how to do something, your life might get a little better!’

All I could figure was that being a guitarist in California they automatically assumed I was a goober, sleeping on somebody’s couch until noon and begging for McDonald’s cheeseburgers? And ‘cutting my hair’ offerings were the nice ones, you should have heard the ******!
Even my own family.

I went home for Christmas of ’83 and took a manila envelope with me. My uncle started first, ‘What is your problem? Why don’t you cut your hair, grow up and act right?!?’ I pulled out my envelope, threw it on the table. It was full of aerospace awards that you get along the way and my end-of-year pay stub. I replied, ‘I live in a place you can’t afford to vacation to. I’ve been to places you never dreamed of? And I make more money than any 3 of you put together. So tell me what the eff my ‘problem’ is? Would you please pass the yams?’

The crappiest beater I drove was a completely restored red 68 Firebird, a couple of new high-end motorcycles and others.

The best though was when I brought a girl home. She’d look around the house and say something like, ‘WOW, this is really nice! Is this your roommate’s place?’

‘No, it’s mine, I live alone.’

‘And you’re not married yet?!?’ Um, no, and now I know I still won’t be!” Source
It’s so easy to judge a book by its cover, and even easier to assume to judge people! Humans are complex, and each one comes with a story, sometimes a couple of stories. Have you gone through a similar experience? Tell us everything!