I had a most unusual experience this week. Yet, a few decades ago, it would not been unusual at all.
I was calling roofing companies to arrange for estimates to replace the wood trim under our roof. (In doing so, I learned a new word: soffit. Who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks. Woof!)
After making an appointment with Company #1, I called the next business on the list. I knew the drill and was ready to answer the universal questions. Name. Address. Type of house. Year house was built. Yadayadayada.
Then the woman on the other end threw me a curveball with her well-rehearsed line about it was Company #2’s policy to schedule visits when all the “decision-makers” in the household could be available to consult about color, style, blah, blah and was I the only decision-maker? Taken aback, yet confident that no one else in my household gives a flying fig about replacing the soffit, I replied yes. Here’s what followed:
“Are you the sole home owner?” “No, I co-own the house with my husband.” “What’s your husband’s name?”
“Mike.” “When would Mike be available to join you for the appointment?”
Woah, stop everything! Is she saying what I think she’s saying? That Company #2 will only do business with me if MY HUSBAND is involved? Are you freaking kidding me?!?!?
I ended the phone call quickly after objecting (albeit politely – it wasn’t this poor woman’s fault) to Company #2’s “approach” to business. To top it off, the next day Company #2’s manager contacted me at work to innocently “inquire about my unfinished file.” After I briefly recapped the reason, he attempted to explain the rationale behind the practice of having all decision-makers present. Again, I quickly ended the call. (OK, this time a little less politely.)
Do you really think that, if my husband called for an appointment, they would have insisted that I, his wife, be there to help with “decision-making.” Uh, I don’t think so.
This was my first experience with such blatant sexism. I experienced a real sense of powerlessness and anger, even with this low-stakes scenario of stumbling in my efforts to replace the soffit. Imagine if I was thwarted or denied when trying to secure credit, rent or buy my own home, or land a new job. I immediately thought of and had empathy for the Wise Women who routinely faced this dehumanizing attitude not so long ago.
Anyone else run up against something like this?
7-9-2009 12:17:55
Your outrage may make them rethink their policy. Obviously, noone has ever enlightened this company. Take your business elsewhere.
7-9-2009 14:29:55
This seems to be the attitude with many car dealers as well. I ran into a similar situation when buying a car on my own a few years ago – the dealer was clearly uncomfortable talking to me without my husband. I remember the feeling of frustration, almost humiliation. I still dread buying a new car — although I’m much more saavy about the process now.
7-12-2009 15:51:05
I agree with Skippy . . . take your business elsewhere. And I’d also let all your friends in the area know your experience and name the name of the company, so other’s can take their business elsewhere too.
On another note, I recently learned the word soffit when we had some work done on our house. The difference is that everyone in the UK seems to know that word already. Very strange. Why would normal people grow up knowing about soffits??
7-13-2009 12:22:34
We just had our roof replaced and I am happy to report that I did not experience anything like that. In fact, our guy seemed happy dealing with “the little woman.” I am sorry you had to experience that feeling. Yuck!