I hated it, and was disappointed in myself but for one time in my life, I let someone get away with publicly humiliating me. And the worst part of it, I paid a great deal of money for the priviledge. I'm somewhat ashamed for not addressing the individual immediately, but I felt a special hatred levelled at me by someone that I did not trust to leave me and mine alone, knowing my name and address.
I think I am within a week of going full time, and I need women's glasses for work, as well as everywhere else.
A week ago, I had a wonderful experience at a Sterling Optical store in a local shopping mall. I chose this place over the others I shopped, for the price offred me, and by the service I received that evening.
The young lady taking care of me was pleasant, professional, and caring. She took great pride in her work, and it was easy to tell that she was truly enjoying helping me. I was dressed for work at the time, in men's clothes (but also wore earrings) and brought in a pair of women's frames, and a copy of my current prescription asking to replace the lenses in the women's frames with my current prescription. She did this happily, without a blink, carefully made measurements, followed through with all the paperwork, chatted briefly, and thanked me for my business. A wonderful experience, as I said.
Now today, a week later.
I went into the very same Sterling Optical store, happy about getting my new women's glasses. Being my day off, I dressed female casual . . . . jeans, women's flip flops, lavender tee, cross necklace, earrings, and a shoulder bag. The individual that "helped" me was about my age, male, arrogant, obnoxious. When he brought the glasses case over to me and opened it, he saw the women's glasses they made for me under my male name. Oh, what joy! Oh, what a great opportunity! . . . . for him to have some fun at my expense. He looked over his shoulder at a coworker to get her attention, and see what was going on with his customer. . . me. The young lady didn't take part in his "fun", and the customers she was helping, likewise refused to be involved.
He grinned, and held out the open, delicate glasses for my inspection. "Are these, umm . . . his frames? Do they look like his ??
The ugly hateful smirk he exhibited made me feel violated and dirty in a way I can't explain.
Under ordinary circumstances, I would have dealt swiftly with the behaviour of this person, but I didn't know suddenly if I would be leaving my family open for retribution.
Now I really know how it feels to be an ill-treated minority.
Still Learning,
Bev