cm (frommywaist) wrote in bad_service,

Today, my friend and I went to Walmart to kill some time before a movie.

Relevant; I'm a guy and my friend is a 5'0", 90 pound female in her early twenties.

We were in the clothing department poking through clearance and whatever, kind of hanging around close to the dressing room. There were five or six attendants standing around the dressing room area, all talking loudly amongst themselves. At least one of them was on break. I know this because she was telling her coworkers how glad she was to be on break because she'd be forced to physically harm the next customer she had to deal with. Which. Ok. Whatever. I guess we all have those days?

So anyway, I went up to them with a pair of jeans to try on. I like skinny jeans to be pretty form fitting and guy cuts just don't do it for me and... actually, whatever, it doesn't really matter why I prefer female cut jeans.

I came up and waited a couple moments to try for a pause in their conversation, but the associates were just talking through me. Like, two were sorting and rehanging clothes between two trollies a couple yards from the dressing room desk, one was sitting at the desk itself, two others were standing towards the opposite side of the island... so I mean they were relatively spread out and yelling between themselves. Mostly gossiping about coworkers and complaining about customers.

So the associate behind the desk finally looked at me and I held up the skinny jeans I wanted to try on. She gave me this completely disgusted look, like I had two heads and one of them was a squashed bug.

"You know those are girl pants?" she asked me with this lip curl and not even taking her chin out of her hands while she propped her elbows on the table. And I mean, yeah, the tags are pretty indicative of the intended sex, so I was definitely able to deduce the intended gender.

"Yes... I need to try them on."

"They're for girls."

"Yes. It's just one item..." you know, prompting her to give me a numbered door hanger.

"They're leggings."

(They weren't. There were denim. Well, a denim blend, but denim.)

"Okay..." I was just staring at her blankly at this point because I was kind of... thrown off? I don't know why she was so angry that I would try on female jeans.

She let me try them on finally and as I was coming out of the dressing room, I caught the tail end of my friend's conversation with one of the putbacks associates. My friend had approached the associate and inquired about tank tops sold in packs. The associate told her that Walmart doesn't sell packs of tank tops except in the "little girls department" where my friend "should be shopping anyway."

My friend was furious at the attitude and disgust coming off the associate even more so than the words. Which I get because I felt the same way. We turned to go, her talking about reporting them to corporate or a manager or something, and when we rounded the corner of the aisle, there was an entire aisle ender of women's tank tops in packs.

That was kind of the icing on the cake I guess.
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