This kind of thing really gets on my tits

I just ordered wood for my new living room floor (which is OMG so exciting - you should see the state of the current carpet, ugh) and had a bit of a barny with the guy on the phone. He wanted to know if there would be a 'competent male' on the premises when the delivery comes.

Me: Why?
Him: We just require that there's a competent male for all deliveries.
Me: Ok, but why? (Because if it was some sort of ridiculous harassment prevention thing I'd have accepted it)
Him: To help the driver unload.
Me: Well, I'll help the driver unload
Him: (lengthly explanation of height of van, possibility of wood being on the very top)
Me: What if all the men I know are short?
Him (laughter)
Me: No, seriously. What if the men are all short and weedy and workshy, and I'm tall and strong and willing?
Him: Well, I wouldn't expect a lady to unload. Or a woman.
Me: (bristling over 'or a woman') Isn't ability to unload more relevent than gender?
Him: ...
Me: I'll do it. I spent yesterday distmantling a concrete and steel sectional office and loading it into a lorry. I'm capable.
Him: ...
Me: (No longer amused) There won't be any men here.
Him: If the driver can't unload by himself, you're liable for the extra delivery charge. And the cost of a second man to help him.
Me: !!!!!

Honestly. It's been a while since I've had to deal with this shit. I forgot.

I just hope that the driver passes on news of my freakish, unladylike strength and willing.