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The Question Is Timeless, Not Ageless

| Antwerp, Belgium | Right | November 15, 2013

(My mum and I are waiting in line to buy our ticket. We are behind two older ladies.)

Old Lady: “No, I’m not telling you my age. I tell you, it is most impolite for you to ask.”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, ma’am; I did not want to offend, but you do—”

Old Lady: “Well, you were. You don’t ask a lady her age!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but—”

Old Lady: “Give us our tickets already!”

(The cashier finishes the transaction, and still a bit undignified, both ladies leave. My mum and I approach the cashier.)

My Mum: “I have no problem telling you I am over 55, and have proof for you too. Now, I believe you do have senior citizen discount for which I qualify?”

Cashier: “Certainly, ma’am. So that will be one senior citizen and one adult?”

(Both ladies, clearly above 55, hear my mum speak; realizing their error, they look at their tickets and then to the cashier as to judge their chances of getting money back. With some disappointment, they decide against it.)

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Bought It From Somewhere Else

| Right | November 15, 2013


Toying With Her

| Working | November 15, 2013

Glad We Straightened That Out, Part 2

| NJ, USA | Working | November 15, 2013

(The lunch rush has just passed, so my coworkers and I are chatting a bit. I am new to this job, and have only been working there for a week. I’m a woman.)

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], are you into black guys?”

(He is not black, and neither are any of our other coworkers, so I have no idea why he’s even asking me this.)

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Coworker: “Would you ever date a black guy?”

Me: “Uh yeah, sure. One of my ex-girlfriends was black, but what does race have to do—”

Coworker: “Whoa hold up! You dated a girl?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m bisexual.”

(My coworker starts shaking his head.)

Coworker: “No.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Coworker: “I don’t believe in bisexuality. Either you’re gay or you’re straight. Bisexuals are just secretly gay, having a bit of fun, or confused.”

Me: “Um, dude, no. I can tell you that I like both men and women.”

Coworker: “No! You’re just confused! If you’re f***** by the right guy, you’d realize that you’re straight!”

Me: “Are you serious right now? So let me get this straight: you’ve known me for four days, and you know nothing about my personal life, and you think you know my own sexuality better than I do? If that’s not the most conceited thing I’ve ever heard, then I don’t know what the f*** is.”

Coworker: *shuts up and leaves me alone*

Glad We Straightened That Out

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A Very Complicated Pre-Op

| Tallahassee, FL, USA | Working | November 15, 2013

(I am a 26-year-old man, waiting for a tonsil operation. I am in the waiting room with my friend, who is 20.)

Friend: “Hey [My Name], I need to go and get some pretzels. Where are they?”

Me: “Second turn, cafeteria.”

(My friend gets up. My name is called. As I go to surgery, the doctor starts asking questions.)

Doctor: “Right, [My Unisex Name], this is the routine checkup?”

Me: “No, an operation on my tonsils.”

Doctor: “And your birth date is [month and day], 1997?”

Me: “No. I was born in 1987.”

Doctor: *looks at me curiously* “Erm, just give me a minute.”

(I see the doctor open the door and goes out. My friend is coming back as he goes out. I assume he goes up and tells her I’m in an operation because I hear them talking. I wait about 10 more minutes, before a security guard comes in.)

Security Guard: “Mr. [My Surname]?”

Me: “Yes.”

Security Guard: “I have reason to believe you have used someone else’s details. Or that you HAVEN’T stolen someone else’s details, but those details are your girlfriend’s. And to add to that, because of the birth date on the list, we believe she is underage. So you tried to make an underage girl come to hospital for reasons unknown, and I have to arrest you for either identity theft or pedophilia. For your sake, you better hope it’s the first.”

Me: “Just hold it just there! That is MY name! And I have the same birth date; it’s just 87, not 97! And she’s just my friend, and she’s 20!”

(The security guard goes out and brings back a clipboard. He looks at the date on it and I look as well. The person who took my details has written 1987 so badly it looks like 1997. The hospital apologizes to me, and my friend, and I am given a tonsil operation.)

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