1. Don’t blare your horn at me because you are behind me and you’re having to wait for a few seconds until I judge that it is safe for me to turn right across two lanes of traffic. You may be able to zip across a line of traffic in your nippy little car and rush over a pavement with impunity, but I am driving a family sedan, which takes a little more time to move. Risk your own life, not mine, if 20 seconds is such a big deal.

2. Don’t patronise me because you are a young male sales clerk in an electronics shop and I am a middle-aged woman. I may not have your technical expertise, but I still have money to spend.

3. Don’t reach over to grab more groceries to stuff into a shopping bag when I have carefully lined up my groceries and shopping bags in such a way as to indicate which items should go into which bag (per Dr Cat’s helpful hint). You may be able to lift a shopping bag stuffed to the hilt, but I can’t. You may be happy to mix up fruit and cleaning products, but I am not. You might even like putting heavy containers of milk in the same bag as soft, ripe mangoes, but I do not. And don’t cap it all off by glaring at me when I ask you to stack the items in the bags in the order in which they are presented. There are plenty of other supermarkets nearby, and I am quite happy to take my annual supermarket bill of about $20,000 elsewhere.

Grump. Grump. Grump.

And while I am grumping, a local supermarket categorises its magazines into Men’s Interest, House and Garden, Food and Wine, and Women’s Interest. Guess where I found New Scientist. And the news magazines.

On seconds thoughts, perhaps I shouldn’t be troubling my feeble lady-brane with that.


13 responses to “Grump

  1. There are certain checkout operators who I actively avoid at my local supermarket, there are others who I will stand in a longer queue than strictly necessary for especially if I’m feeling lazy and I’m not in a hurry. But mostly I just use the self serve checkout now. For which there ought to be a rebate, but at least I can only blame myself if the bread gets squashed.

  2. Gosh, don’t be worried about science! That’s boy stuff! Oh I shiny thing!!1!

  3. That is all very grump inducing indeed. I scored a sensible checkout operator today, but I’ve had to intervene to stop eggs being precariously perched on top of 17 other things, half out of the bag.

  4. Grump away, sounds like you have earned it.
    Self serve checkouts are a while away in this here country town. I prefer them when I go to the big smoke though. Especially now that I can use a pin with my credit card and no operator intervention is required. Although incidents of leaving the shop with security tags still on are increasing. Fortunately the local shops are very accommodating when it comes to removing security tags! One of the things I love about living in a country town. That and now that they know me at the post office they pick up my parcels for me while they are getting someone else’s so by the time I get to the front of the line we just swap card for parcel and I’m out of there.

  5. New Scientist: In the astrology section?
    I kid you not, many shops don’t distinguish between psuedoscince and actual science. And we’re not just talking about economics here. Not that I’m a grumpy middle-aged woman or anything, but that gripes me.
    Mindy, our “city” post office does that too. They won’t leave it at our house without a signature regardless of what we put on the address label, but when I wander into the post office they have even been known to wave me forward while the customer at the counter is faffing and give me parcels.
    My gripe for the weekend is that allegedy “people like me” made up most of the swing that got us a new Liberal govt in Victoria (possibly). Stupid “people like me”! Bah, when will you ever learn. Voting out Labour because you don’t think there’s enough infrastructure is all very well, but the Liberals are promising less infrastructure. Sheesh, pay attention you “middle aged men”.

  6. As a former check out chick of almost 8 years I’m shocked that the operator was doing that. Bitch to the supervisor.

  7. The magazine used to be called Her Business but it was put in the business section. Now they call it Her & it’s in the women’s section.

  8. I’ve have just told the strangelings about the placement of New Scientist. They were unimpressed.

  9. I confess to demographic profiling at the checkout: I choose middle aged women wherever possible, and my shopping almost always ends up sensibly dealt with. I also find they tend to just briefly chat normally, instead of bugging their eyes or getting all oversolicitous or acting awkward at my Visible Crippiness. I know there are plenty of sensible and lovely young folk out there too, but when my spoons are low I just play the statistical game.

  10. If you wish to feel particularly grumpy about attitudes toward women and science, you might want to read some of the comments to Ed Yong’s recent post on a simple exercise that appears close the gender gap in physics students.

    (No one has actually said “PC gone mad” yet, but it’s coming…)

  11. Hmmm… I’m not at all sure that I would want to venture into that space.

  12. Actually, reading back over it, most of the responses are sensible. Just a few folks who can’t bring themselves to think it would be possible for the female brain to comprehend physics…

  13. I am pleased to see that food, at least, is considered gender neutral.