So inspired I am by Helen Razer's blog, http://badhostess.com/ that I felt the need to blog about this here. Because ranting to no one in particular is what I do best.

Ms Razer describes her experiences while buying an RCA lead, and what seems to be an inevitable and entirely predictable exchange with male sales assistant, who acts in such a way as to assume that he wasn't aware that people with vaginas were allowed to go to school and might (God forbid!) know things.
My last experience in this sphere was while trying to establish the cost of replacing the battery in my car's remote control. I spoke to a automotive locksmith, and explained that I had sawed the remote open along its seam with a steak knife, pried the battery off, and that while one of the contacts was already broken (the result of being dropped too many times) I had established that fashioning a makeshift contact out of some tin-foil seemed to work just fine, and can I use a regular battery and would you sell me one please.
With an over-exaggerated sigh, he explained to me that these remotes were single use only, and couldn't be opened (in spite of me telling him I already had) and that purchasing a replacement battery was a mistake because it was NEVER GOING TO WORK BUT WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW BECAUSE YOU ARE JUST A STUPID GIRL. Well, the last bit wasn't actually spoken aloud, you know, but rather, tacit in his tone and slow manner of explanation. So, very patiently, and equally as slowly, I explained to him that not only was I confident it would work, but that at least attempting to fix the unit was preferable to obediently handing over wads of cash that I simply don't have - something I am sure he seemed to think was the only thing I was actually skilled at.

So, steeled by his arrogant presumptions, I called in to a local supermarket, bought a battery and replaced it, sticky tape, tin foil and all. And it works fine. So you know, nyeh nyeh, etc.