Ladies, when did you get to remind your chauvinist salesperson who the real client was?

We wanted a fence around our house. I've always worked from home, and my husband has always worked in a field where he can't take time to meet with contractors and people like that.

He and I agree on terms up front, and then I make decisions from there.

It doesn't matter in life, but for this story,

it does. I make more than my husband, by the way. We'd already agreed on this company based on

various factors. A man gave over to give an estimate during a workday, which ended up being less

than we expected to pay. I was ready to sign the papers and he said, I'd rather talk to your

husband about the numbers and get his signature since he'll be the one paying for it. I was ready to sign the papers and he said, I'd rather talk to your husband about the numbers

and get his signature since he'll be the one paying for it. I asked him to leave my property

and never come back. Okay, mine wasn't a salesperson, but I am a female business owner with a male

business partner. I've had a few customers born in the dark ages and reps that asked to speak to my

boss, but the worst was a guy who snapped his fingers and told me to put the kettle on, girly. Needless to say, he didn't get his cupper and he certainly didn't get the discount he asked for.

When I was a baby, for some reason I wouldn't latch on when my mother fed me, so I wasn't eating well. The doctor completely ignored my mom

and only talked to my dad because apparently she was too hysterical. He was on the verge of

finding out what hysterical looked like. A while back, my wife and I were hitting up local dealerships

trying to find a replacement car for her 2006 Nissan subcompact.

The first thing I'd tell each salesman was that we were shopping around for a daily for her to drive.

The Honda dealership was a stereotypical car salesman.

We can't even let her take a test drive unless she shows intent to buy.

The Ford dealership ignored her completely and tried to sell me a Mustang.

Toyota was like, oh, you must want to look at our insert soccer mum vehicle here.

But when we got to Mazda, I told the sales guy the same thing that we were looking for for her next car.

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