Baking Up A Storm

(On my last day at a student employee position the other staff throws me a huge lunch potluck. I’m taking my last lunch in the break room when this conversation occurs. During the last few months of my time in the department, I’ve been bringing baked goods on Fridays because I love baking.)

Supervisor: “Have you written your last will? You know, who you’re leaving all your office possessions to?”

Me: “All I have here is a bottle of lotion and some instant coffee, and that’s going home with me. Ya’ll can fight over what you think is mine.”

Supervisor: “Then who’s taking over Friday bake-day duties?”

Me: “I don’t know. [Coworker] brought muffins in once that were tasty. Ask him to do it.”

Boss: “But he’s a guy. Men don’t bake, unless they’re f*gs.”

(Both my supervisor and I stared at our boss in horror, who just walked out of the room like nothing happened. Both my supervisor and I are gay. I’d worked for the department for nearly four years, and my supervisor had been there for over a decade, and we’d never heard our boss talk like that. To no one’s surprise, he was fired three months after for discrimination, and my supervisor got his old job.)