(I am at a karaoke bar. I’m female and have just sung a love song by a male singer with lyrics that clearly indicate the other person is female but not the singer’s gender. Females usually change the lyrics to indicate a male. I sang the original. A stranger grabs me on the way back to my table.)

Stranger: “Why did you sing that to a girl? You sing nice but that was very weird and made me feel so awkward.”

Me: “Is that a problem?”

Stranger: “Yes, you are a girl! You should sing to a boy!”

Me: “Not if I’m gay.”

Stranger: “Ewww, get away from me.”

Me: “Glad to.”

(As I was walking away his friend says to him:)

Stranger’s Friend: “That was rude!” *to me* “Sorry!”

(The next song I choose is a love song with lyrics clearly indicated the singer as male and the other person as female. I sang it as female for both. That particular stranger is glaring at me, I glare back and walk a different way back to my table.)

Stranger: *yelling so everyone can hear* “Disgusting homo!”

Stranger’s Friend: *slaps him in the head* “You’re the disgusting one!”

Dear readers! This story was originally submitted without a title, to encourage you to come up with a witty submission yourselves. After considering the many amazing suggestions in the comments section, we have come up with the title above. Thank you all for participating; we had a blast reading them!

(I am 15. My friend has invited me up to Canada for a week to visit. I’m surprisingly well-traveled for my age. We board, and I take my seat. A few minutes later, a woman who appears to be my seatmate, approaches. She’s one of the last few on the plane.)

Me: *smiling* “Hello!”

Woman: *frowns* “Sweetie, where are your parents?”

Me: “What?”

Woman: “Your parents! I bet they left you back here so they could sit in first class, huh!”

Me: “No, actually—”

Woman: “This is unacceptable! How could any parent be so irresponsible as to leave a child in economy alone!”

Me: “Ma’am, wait, no—”

Woman: “Unacceptable!” *presses the button for a flight attendant*

(A flight attendant appears almost immediately.)

Flight Attendant: “Do you need assistance lifting your bag into the overhead locker, ma’am?”

Woman: “No! This little girl’s parents have left her alone in economy so they could sit in first class, and she’s obviously never flown before!”

Flight Attendant: *to me* “Is that true, honey?”

Me: *groans* “Look, I know I look young, but I assure you my parents haven’t ‘left me.’ I’m flying alone.”

Woman: *gasps* “You’re flying alone on your first plane trip?!”

Me: “NO! Lady, would you just listen to me! I am 15 years old, and I’ve probably traveled more than you! Yes, I’m flying alone, but I’ve done this many times.”

Woman: “Don’t lie, dear. You’ve never been outside of the states before.”

Me: *fed up with her, digs out passport* “Look at this. Here are six entry stamps to the UAE, three different Vietnam tourist visas, a stamp from Cambodia, South Africa, Greece, Thailand, the Czech Republic, Germany, and lady, I could go on! This is my second passport! Do you believe me now?!”

(The guy in the seat behind me claps.)

Woman: “Well, I never!” *sits down in a huff*

Flight Attendant: *to me* “If she bothers you any more, just let me know and I’ll handle it.”

Me: “Thank you!”

(The woman didn’t speak to me the rest of the flight. Once we landed, however…)

Woman: “Do you know where the baggage claim is?”

Me: *sweetly* “Sorry, ma’am, I don’t. This is my first time flying and as a little girl with no parents, I don’t know where I’m going! Maybe you should ask an adult who’s flown before!”

(She stormed off!)

(Note pertinent to the story, I am in my late twenties and am very active. My job requires me to be on my feet and constantly moving. I also work out six days a week and mountain and gorge climb. I get a call from my doctor’s office about yearly blood test results.)

Nurse: *fills me in on results, which are good, then pauses* “You probably should think about losing some weight.”

Me: “Sorry, what was that?”

(I’m a little taken aback because my doctor always comments on what good shape I’m in.)

Nurse: *slowly and in a scoffing tone* “You should probably think about losing some weight.”

Me: *confused* “Did my doctor ask you to tell me that?”

Nurse: “Uh, no. But I don’t know why. I have your height and weight listed. And your BMI is so high.”

Me: “Sorry but I don’t think you should give advice the doctor didn’t list. Also BMI from height and weight alone is usually inaccurate for people who live an active lifestyle because it doesn’t account for muscle and fat disbursement and—”

Nurse: *cuts me off* “Wow. You really don’t want to admit you’re obese. I am a medical professional. I should know.”

Me: “Have you even seen me? I’m in better shape than most people.”

Nurse: *scoffs* “No, but I have your stats here and….”

(She continued to berate me about my weight so I hung up. The next time I was in the office I asked if she could not be my nurse and was happy to hear she was fired. I guess I wasn’t the only patient she was giving her own negative advice to!)

(I work at a small B.C. grocery store. I have thick, curly red hair, and for most of my time at this company I’ve had my hair long. It’s very popular with our customers, and I frequently get compliments on it. I’ve just gotten my hair cut drastically short, and am surprised and how much everybody likes it. I’m ringing up an off-shift coworker when an annoying regular joins us.)

Regular: *interrupting our conversation* “[My Name]! You cut off all of your beautiful red hair!”

Me: “Yeah, it was time for a change.”

Regular: “But you had such beautiful hair!”

Coworker: “And she still does.”

Me: “Thank you, [Coworker]!”

(The regular didn’t know what to say and left. I went on a break.)

(I am chatting with a friend to whom I have not spoken in ages. The topic of my job comes up.)

Me: “Now if only [Name] would shut up about how I need to start wearing jeans to ‘fit in.’ Clearly they already like me. Why the h*** would I start going conformist?”

Friend: “That’s really controlling of her. Who the h*** cares what you wear?”

Me: “THANK YOU.”

Friend: “Next time she comments just pull her aside and ask what concern of hers is it what you wear as long as it conforms to the dress code?”

Me: “Uh… no. That won’t get her to go away. It’ll just get me a lecture about how they’re trying to help and I’m being rude.”

Friend: “Then ‘I’m good how I am’ should suffice.”

Me: “I’ve tried that before. It doesn’t work. They think because they’re older that they know better.”

Friend: “Meh. Just chalk her up as some busy body that needs an underling to feel complete and ignore it. A trend setter without a following.”

Me: “No, she cares WAAAAAAAAY too much about how other people think. Probably because she gets too judge-y of others and fails to comprehend that not everyone is like that.”

Friend: “Oh, well. Some coworkers.”

Me: “…[Name]’s not a coworker. She’s my step-mother.”

(I guess my friend and I needed to chat more often!)