At a Loss for Words (And Merchandise)

I was accused of being properly racist for the first time today. Woo! I made it to age 26!

Anyway, it was strange having  "you're treating me like this because I'm black" levelled at me, and the woman who said it didn't even sound angry, just resigned. I couldn't do anything but apologise because I hadn't been talking about her, and actually I wasn't even being racist. I was being classist. Or maybe alcoholist. Certainly stylist.

I volunteer in a charity shop out of boredom and loneliness, and we get robbed every day. We're told who to look out for: people who look high, drunk, and are carrying large bags. On Wednesday a couple of security guards dragged a woman into the store and emptied her bag out so we could identify our things; the whole time the woman was screaming that we were disgusting, horrible thieves - this is a charity shop. We're not run by Philip Green, yet two or three times a day we'll get a certain kind of bloody-minded woman continually come up to staff, hold up something that's clearly priced and demand to know what the "real" price is and why it's so expensive.

"98p? Why is this top 98p? That's dear. It shouldn't be expensive. It's not like it's new." Sorry, but we don't own an overseas sweatshop. Most of the time people like this will buy something, and they always come back.

Today a woman came in reeking of alcohol and was not, let's say, dressed to impress. She was also carrying a big rucksack close to her chest, and seemed like the kind of person I might catch stroking the Barbies. The store was crowded, and the other volunteer was sorting out the toys and didn't notice her. Before I could ask her opinion on it, a young black mother who frequently shops at the store asked me to help her at the till. I was nervous about the other woman; from behind the till I couldn't see her. When my co-worker passed me I said, "hey, can you keep any eye on-" and nodded toward where the maybe-thief was. Unfortunately, she was somewhere behind the woman I was serving, so I can see why she may have thought I meant her.

Although that's a bit weird. Like, why would I subtly try to say, "Hey, can you keep an eye on this woman who shops here all the time, is obviously buying things now, and who I can clearly see? I don't want her to pull a fast one even though that would be completely impossible, not to mention totally out of character for this very familiar customer." 

She was quite offended, and before I could clarify who I meant the potential thief sidled into earshot. That is, she joined the queue with the items she wanted to purchase. I was completely at a loss. I couldn't say "No, no! I actually thought the woman standing just behind you was a smack head, a thief, and likely to blow her nose in a pair of socks. But I see now she's just alternatively dressed. And alternatively perfumed."

I'm not feeling bad about this misunderstanding. I feel slightly bad about thinking the other woman was a thief, when probably she was just a drunk hippy shopping at 2 pm on a Friday afternoon, as usual. In the time it took for this drama to climax and end, I noticed that a clutch of old ladies with trolley bags had come in, milled around the front of the store, and then departed - oddly empty looking, the front of the store...