The Girl Who Cried Misogynist

Story Sent in by Jason:

Date number two with Linda was at a barbecue place. Once we placed our orders and waited for our food at the counter, she took note of the chefs beyond the registers.

"No women..." she murmured, then again, louder, "Not a single woman."

"Maybe they all have the day off?" I suggested.

She stepped away from me and went right up to the kid who took our order at the register. He was in the middle of helping another customer but Linda butted right in and said, "Excuse me: how come you don't have any women back there?" and she pointed over his shoulder to where the chefs were busy preparing our dinners.

The poor boy said, "I–I don't know. We have women who work for us but... but..."

"Where are they?" snapped Linda.

The cashier said, "Can you give me just one minute to finish with this customer? I'll get my manager–"

Linda piped up, "Women have waited hundreds of years for equal rights. You answer my question now."

The guy who was ordering then stepped in. "Excuse me: I'm in the middle of an order. Can you put your crusade on hold for a second?"

"My crusade!?" Linda gasped, "You're a misogynist!" She turned back to the cashier. "Your manager. Now."

"You finish taking my order," the customer said to the cashier, who looked like he'd have rather been anywhere else. I wanted to join him there.

"Manager!" Linda called out to whoever would listen behind the counter. "Manager!"

The manager, a middle-aged guy with a headset, lumbered out to the counter. Linda laughed, shook her head, and said, "A man. Of course," then started right in on him, "You have misogynistic workplace practices." She pointed around behind the counter. "How come no women?"

The manager glanced around and said, "You'd probably have to take that up with the owner. She does all the hiring."

"She?" Linda asked.

"That's right."

"She?" Linda asked again.

The manager said, "If you give me your name and number I'm sure she'd be glad to reach out."

Linda stepped away. "Clearly she's a misogynist."

I gently put a hand on Linda's shoulder from behind. More than a few eyes were looking at us. I said quietly, "Maybe we should go somewhere else for dinner."

"Yeah," Linda thankfully agreed, then said, "You're all misogynists!" to everyone within earshot. We hurried out.

I took her down the road to a family restaurant. The whole time we ate, she spat and muttered to me all about how misogynists were always running the show and how women were worse off now than they've ever been. I pretended to care and that was our last date ever.