Um, did I slip and fall into 1955?
I’ve answered like four calls today from a customer who refuses to believe I can answer his questions. He wants me to put him in touch with the (male) owner of the shop. Or the (male) owner of the bike he’s inquiring about. While I was out running errands, he called and talked to one of the (male) mechanics, and said he’d already called today but had talked to “that little secretary you’ve got there.”
*blink*
MY JOB TITLE IS NOT “LITTLE SECRETARY.” In fact, my job title is not secretary at all. The guy’s data points for this conclusion pretty much consist of: 1) female and 2) answered a phone.
The mechanic tried to placate me by saying “I told him you’re not the secretary - besides, I usually refer to you as ‘the pretty girl behind the counter!’”
*headdesk*
He at least gets an A for effort.
This was all after an affiliate called and chewed me out as if I had failed at my job as his personal secretary. Except a) I have gone above and beyond to help this guy in any way I can, even when it’s not my job at all, and b) I’m sure as hell not his personal secretary.
Wimmenfolk: HAVING JOBS OTHER THAN SECRETARY FOR QUITE A WHILE NOW, KTHX.
Back when I was a dispatcher at a law enforcement agency, there were two occasions when someone told the lady I was working with “I want to talk to a man”; both times, it was a woman asking. The second time of which, I found out about the problem when the lady very professionally said “Hold one moment, ma’am,”, put the line on hold, slammed the receiver down and said “YOU talk to this bitch!”
Which also led to one of my favorite things, after having told the woman the same thing the lady had:
“I want to talk to a supervisor!”
“Ma’am, I AM the supervisor on this shift.”
Click.
“Wimmenfolk: HAVING JOBS OTHER THAN SECRETARY FOR QUITE A WHILE NOW, KTHX.”
Yep, just about as bad as giving you the vote.