(I work at a restaurant in a very rich town, in which I also live. I am getting my hair done at a ‘posh’ salon when I see one of my regulars from the restaurant sitting in the first chair.)
Me: “Hello Mrs. [Name]. Good to see you.”
Customer: “Oh hel— aren’t you my waitress from the place down the road?”
Me: “Yes, I am. How are you doing today?”
Customer: “I didn’t know people like you were allowed in a place like this.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
(At this point my stylist comes over to bring me to her station.)
Customer: *to stylist* “Honey, did you know this girl is a waitress? Are you sure she has enough money to pay? You may want to check before you start serving her.”
Stylist: “Ma’am, [My Name] has been a client here for two years. She’s very reliable.”
Customer: “Oh my. What a waste of money. Poor girls like you should not be wasting their money on things like this. Don’t you have a child to care for or something of the like?”
(At this point everyone in the salon is quite uncomfortable and is staring at the three of us.)
Me: “I’m so sorry Mrs. [Name]. I actually only work at the restaurant because I don’t like to spend my time being unproductive. You see, I am a college student at [very prestigious college]. I am currently studying to be a biomedical engineer, which I’ll have you know is the second top grossing career currently. And since it seems to matter to you so much, I’m quite financially comfortable! And even if I were a poor waitress, as you so kindly suggested, people are free to do whatever they like with the money they work so hard for! Your husband comes in twice a week to get coffee and sit at our counter and complain about you! So really, Mrs. [Name], I’m very, very sorry for you.”
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