Gender Confusion
This afternoon I went to Target. They built a new one in my town just a few months ago, only five minutes away by car. Target on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I went--of course--for wedding junk. We needed an big cooler jug to put iced tea in, and all possible outlets for borrowing one were dried up.
I get lost and confused in Target. It took me a while to find the cooler jug, which was in Sporting Goods. What's sport without cool beverages, after all? I should have guessed. After getting lost in the electronics area, took the escalator downstairs and joined the shortest checkout line.
The checkout girl turned her light off about thrity seconds after I got in line. I guess this meant she was closing the aisle, but she never said so. I asked, "M'am," (I had a good ten years on this girl, I bet) "is this aisle closed?"
She nodded lazily. Gee, thanks for the noticed. I went over to the next checkout. "Hello, sir," the checkout clerk said to me.
Now, on this particular afternoon, there were at least a few very apparent visible indicators of my gender.
1. Chin-length hair held back with barrettes.
2. Cat-eye glasses frames decorated with rhinestones.
3. Boobs (small boobs, granted, but not invisible).
4. A skirt.
I said nothing. But on my way out, I felt that I should have said the the clerk, "Do I look like a man to you? Please apologize." These Target clerks must get paid squat, if they can't even be bothered to announce that a line is closed or to take that extra tenth of a second to discern a customer's sex. Well, I guess that's it for me and Target. From now on, I'm only shopping at stores where the staff knows I am a woman.
I get lost and confused in Target. It took me a while to find the cooler jug, which was in Sporting Goods. What's sport without cool beverages, after all? I should have guessed. After getting lost in the electronics area, took the escalator downstairs and joined the shortest checkout line.
The checkout girl turned her light off about thrity seconds after I got in line. I guess this meant she was closing the aisle, but she never said so. I asked, "M'am," (I had a good ten years on this girl, I bet) "is this aisle closed?"
She nodded lazily. Gee, thanks for the noticed. I went over to the next checkout. "Hello, sir," the checkout clerk said to me.
Now, on this particular afternoon, there were at least a few very apparent visible indicators of my gender.
1. Chin-length hair held back with barrettes.
2. Cat-eye glasses frames decorated with rhinestones.
3. Boobs (small boobs, granted, but not invisible).
4. A skirt.
I said nothing. But on my way out, I felt that I should have said the the clerk, "Do I look like a man to you? Please apologize." These Target clerks must get paid squat, if they can't even be bothered to announce that a line is closed or to take that extra tenth of a second to discern a customer's sex. Well, I guess that's it for me and Target. From now on, I'm only shopping at stores where the staff knows I am a woman.
posted by Lefty at 5:12 PM
3 Comments:
what you failed to realize is those Target checkers are no longer human. humans are too expensive to employ, they require medical benefits, rest breaks, sick time off, and medical benefits. since the robots' programming is still under trial and evaluation they will sometimes fail to identify gender correctly or they may fail to notify of a closed checkout line in a timely manner.
you'll get used to it. you have to.
i seem to be transfixed by medical benefits... heh
Factory Peasant is right, Target employees are basically just empty shells where humans once inhabited (like those things with the mirrored masks in the film the Black Hole). Scary. Just imagine Wal-Mart employees! They are so far gone nothing can bring them back to life, nothing! No more Wal-Mart and no more Target stores for us!
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