1769 Gender Sensitive

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Marge Simpson: We can't afford to shop at any store that has a philosophy.

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Last week I posted about my annoyance when people are overly sensitive and jump to conclude racism where it might not be. This morning I was reading a piece written by a lesbian (nah, I'm not going to link to it) and I was reminded of an incident last summer, at the Maritime Museum.

I was filling in in the gift shop, and having trouble with the cash register. It wasn't totaling up correctly, and the cash drawer had a weird combination of change.

A couple came in. One was a woman in her early fifties, very feminine. She deferred to her companion, who was probably late thirties, and who was very affectionate toward and protective of her. I couldn't figure out if the companion was male or female. It was weird.

I've never been confused before. I can spot transvestites unfailingly. I don't have trouble until we move into the transsexual realm, when they start messing with hormones, but even then, the brow and jawline is often a clue. You can't change bones that easily. I once had a whole theater full of people pissed with me when we went to that movie where the big twist at the end is that the beautiful woman the man falls in love with turns out to be a man (can't remember the name of the movie, it was like 20 years ago when stuff like that was shocking [Later: a commenter has reminded me it was "The Crying Game"]), and everybody in the world was so careful not to tell the ending because it's so shocking, and five minutes into the movie I turned to my companion and whispered "That's a man. Why do they have a male actor in that role?" Half the theater turned and scowled at me.

Anyhow, identifying people as to age, race, gender, is something your brain sort of does on autopilot, and you get a glitch when it can't.

The couple explored the museum, then came back out and explored the gift shop. At some point, something, I don't remember what, clued me in that the companion was a woman.

I have no problem with that. I'm all for affection, love, commitment wherever one finds it, and these two were obviously happy. That's nice. I was just relieved that I'd figured it out. (Remember SNL's "Pat"?)

Anyhow, they bought some stuff, the companion put some cash on the counter, the cash register sneezed, and I had to total it up by hand and figure out the best change from the slim pickings in the drawer. I counted it out in a pile on the counter, switching a few bills and coins as I found a combination that would still leave me usable cash (a drawer full of just 20s and dimes is not usable). When I had it all together, I pushed the pile across the counter to the companion.

She was absolutely furious because I didn't put the money directly into her hand. She tore into me, saying that putting the money on the counter instead of into her hand was extremely disrespectful, that I was extremely rude in avoiding physical contact with her, and on and on. She really blasted me. I was speechless. All I could say was that I was sorry, I'd had no clerk training and didn't know there was a protocol, didn't know that was important, ok, now I know.

It really shook me. The amount of venom was scary.

I think she was oversensitive, and saw disrespect where there was none. She's creating her own stress.
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