I’m a cashier. I treat every customer equally until they act like idiots. Then I call the manager. Them’s the rules.
The cited thread reminded me that in one day I had to ring up:
A woman wearing shorts and a halter whose body was literally covered with tattoos. I wanted to ask her if her name was Lydia.
A woman whose arms were covered with huge warts. After she left, another cashier asked me “What was wrong with her?” as I used the hand sanitizer.
An obvious burn victim who wore gloves and sunglasses, but whose lower half of her face was very badly scarred.
I never make any comments to these people. I treat them like everyone else. I’ve had to wait on several women who wear full face coverings and robes, no comments. I ring them up, get their payments and leave it at that.
I once waited on a middle-aged lady who was ordinary in appearance except that she had a long black mustache. Actually there was no hair above her lips, but at each corner of her mouth, there was a lock of hair two to three inches long. I’ve always wondered why.
Long ago I work at a bank processing center. They had a very progressive hiring policy, something they were rightly very proud of. There was a sizable number of employees who would have had a hard time getting hired anywhere else due to their physical appearance or emotional or intellectual challenges.
Various physical deformities, thalidomide babies grown-up, severe tourette syndrome, etc. Not meaning to sound unkind, but in earlier decades we could have staffed a couple of circus sideshows. They were (mostly) fine/kind people to work with.
I suppose it takes a certain kind of person to enter that environment and not react negatively. Not to say it didn’t happen, but I was never aware of anyone having a bad reaction.
One older woman who would walk in with a long story and as she was taking I had to make note of whatever numbers she said. For instance a story about seeing 86 men on motorcycles and they were driving down 121st street and 8 of them were wearing purple jackets.
This meant I was to withdraw 86 dollars from her account, then put in 121 dollars and then withdraw 8 dollars.
A homeless woman who smelled horrible and would pick the bugs out of her matted hair while you waited on her.
Lots of older people who were in various stages of dementia. You could tell that at one time they had been well off but now they were in ragged clothes, one lady had dried feces on her legs. Sometimes they would be talking in the lobby and it was fascinating to watch the way the ladies would flirt with the men. It was like they were at a cocktail party.
One man who would scrutinize every bill I gave him and if it didn’t have the words ‘In God We Trust’ on it he’d fling it in my face and demand a replacement.
The cross dresser who wore a ton of make up and then would get mad if you called him ma’am instead of sir. Well, if you want to dress like a woman, and walk like a woman, and wear makeup don’t be offended if the teller all the way down the other end of the counter mistakes you for a woman. Up close there was no mistaking him for a woman (think Corporal Klinger), from a distance there was.