I am driving to work, and another car breaks a whole range of laws at an intersection. Long story short, I end up with a huge dent on the side of my car and a snapped-off mirror. I’m about to get out of the car to swap insurance details, but the driver of the other car screeches away once they’ve composed themselves.

“Great,” I think. “Just what I needed.”

I get to the fast food place where I work and start taking orders. Later in the day, the planets align for me, as a very recognizable yellow SUV pulls into the parking lot. I even notice the slight dent on the vehicle from where it collided with mine.

A stereotypical soccer mom type steps out of the car, yammering on her phone (gee, it’s a wonder she didn’t have an accident!), and walks into the store.

Customer: *Still on her phone call* “I’ll have a [chicken sandwich meal].”

Me: “Do you have a rewards account with us?”

Customer: *Between her call and me* “No, what’s that?”

Me: “Oh, it allows you to get discounts on meals with us. All we need is your phone number and your email, and the first meal is on the house.”

Customer: “Sweet! Sign me up!”

I wrote down her details, and off she went with her free meal. I might have had to pay for her meal out of my pocket, but my insurance company is going to be charging her a lot more when I pass on her details along with her license plate number!

This was seven or eight years ago before I quit smoking. The place I worked at had an outdoor smoking area where most people gathered to socialize. At the time I, a woman in my late twenties, had my bag with a bunch of geeky pins, including several Marvel pins. A new guy came up to me, looked at my bag, and scoffed.

New Guy: “Are you even a real fan?”

Any girl into geeky stuff knows where this is going.

He started quizzing me on Marvel but in a weird, obscure way. Like, “In which issue of ‘X-Men’ was Kitty Pride first introduced?” kind of obscure — pedantic statistic kind of questions. When I didn’t know, he rolled his eyes.

New Guy: “I knew you were just another fake fan.”

My turn. I put on my best “clueless girly-girl” voice.

Me: *Faking confusion* “Aren’t you going to answer some questions, too? You know, to really root out any fake fans, since you seem so concerned about the concept.”

The guy was wearing a Deadpool shirt.

Me: “What’s Deadpool’s full name?”

New Guy: “Wade Wilson.”

Me: “No, his full name. What’s his middle name?”

He didn’t know. I asked if Deadpool had any kids. He didn’t know. A few more (actually) basic Deadpool questions later, he hadn’t gotten any right.

Really upping the girly-girl voice, I said:

Me: “Huh. You asked me all those weird questions, and I just asked for the name of the guy on your shirt and whether he had kids or not. I guess both of us are fake fans, then?”

And then, I just beamed at the guy. His face turned red, and he stormed out. He didn’t even finish his cigarette.

He never talked to me again. There’s no “…and then everyone clapped,” but I did get a high-five and a smirk from another smoker who had been watching.

Pulling an Uno Reverse while ramping up the girliness has become my go-to move against gatekeeping a**holes, and it is AMAZINGLY effective. I highly recommend it!

A couple approaches me with their items, and the woman instantly gives me a disgusted look.

Female Customer: “I don’t know. I don’t like his energy.”

Male Customer: “Oh, God, not this again. He’s fine!”

Female Customer: “He’s been around angry people all day! I don’t need all that ambient negative energy touching my fruits.”

Me: “I can hear you, ma’am. And I promise you the only way a customer can make me angry is to make incorrect assumptions about me.”

Male Customer: “Ha! He told you!”

Female Customer: “See?! He’s so negative! I need to surround myself with pure and positive energy!”

Male Customer: “You binge-watch murder documentaries and b****y reality shows, and you have a constantly updating group chat literally called ‘Gossip’.”

They checked out with me, but she kept her distance because of my “energy.”

Related:
I Don’t Have The Energy To Argue

I’m working in the produce section, stocking some new bananas, and a customer comes over to me.

Customer: “Did you know that humans eat more bananas than monkeys?”

Me: “No, sir, I didn’t know that.”

Customer: “It’s totally true. Think about it. When was the last time you ate a monkey?”

Me: “That’s… I…”

Customer: “This is why I shouldn’t shop without the wife…” *Wanders off*

I am working at a sandwich shop. A woman walks in with her timid-looking teenage daughter.

Customer: “I’ll have the six-inch [sandwich].”

She completes her order and then pushes her daughter to the front.

Customer: “Order your sandwich.”

The daughter is unable to make eye contact, she’s visibly distressed, and she looks like she’s trying to mouth some words, but I can’t hear anything.

Me: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

The daughter suddenly starts crying and turns to leave. Her mother tries to get in her way.

Customer: “Oh, no, you don’t! Honestly, it’s a simple sandwich! Just order it! How are you not embarrassed to be this way?!”

Me: “If you know her order, ma’am, I can take it from you. Or she can write it down if—”

Customer: “No! She has to get over this ‘social anxiety’ thing! This is because these kids spend all their time on screens and never interacting with other actual humans!” *To her daughter* “Order your food, or you’ll get nothing.”

The daughter pauses, looks at me for a split second, starts crying again, and rushes to the exit.

Customer: “Ugh! Probably off to cry to her ‘friends’ on her K-Pop forums. Anyway, can I get an application form or a link to your online vacancies?”

Me: “Are you interested in applying for a job here, ma’am?

Customer: “Me?! Oh, God, no! It’s for my daughter! She needs to get a job out in the real world so she can get over her social cowardice!”

Me: “Ma’am, if her social anxiety is so bad that she can’t even order food, then I don’t think working in a place where she has to interact with strangers all day taking their food orders is going to be a good fit for her.”

Customer: “She’s never going to get over this ‘social anxiety’ nonsense if she doesn’t put in the work! If she stays comfortable all the time, she’ll never grow out of it!”

Me: “I’m not qualified to comment, but I don’t think she’ll enjoy working here.”

Customer: “Nonsense! It’s work; you’re not meant to enjoy it! Do you actually enjoy this job?”

Me: “Not at this very moment, no…”