(I’ve been showing my paintings at outdoor art shows for five years. I sell originals and prints, called giclee prints. Increasingly, as people look at my work and ask if I’m the artist, they seem genuinely surprised. Why, I have no idea. A couple of my neighbors and I were just talking about this when two women started flipping madly through my print rack, clearly marked “Giclee Prints (geeclay)” with the sizes and prices.)

Customer: “Is this you?”

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Customer: “REALLY?”

Me: “Maybe you ladies can help me with this. We were just talking about how surprised people are that I am the one who painted these. Why is that?”

Customer: “Well, you have to admit, Giclee DOES sound like a boy’s name.”

Me: “Actually, giclee is the name of the process to produce the prints. It’s a French word. I am not giclee.”

Customer: “Well, maybe I want to talk to this Giclee guy. Where is he?”

This story is part of our “Not Getting Art” Roundup!

Read the next “Not Getting Art” story!

Read the “Not Getting Art” roundup!

(During a quiet moment at work, I overhear a college-aged guy snickering as he watches a woman in her mid-twenties at the next table. She’s reading ‘A Game of Thrones.’)

Woman: *finally sets down the book and smiles politely at him* “Can I help you?”

Guy: *still snickering a little, gesturing to her book* “Let me guess. You’re reading those because of the show, right? And the hot guys on it?”

(This is so out of line that I consider intervening, but before I can, the woman the guy the most condescending smile I’ve ever seen in my life.)

Woman: “I’m sorry. How old are you?”

Guy: “What? Why?”

Woman: “This book came out in 1996. I’m curious to see if you were even alive when it was first published.”

(The guy gapes at her, then scowls, mutters a sexist slur, and gets up to storm out. The woman notices me watching and grins.)

Woman: “This is my fourth time through these books, and I bet you anything I was reading the first one before he even knew how to read. Plus I’m gay, so I actually watch the show for the hot ladies!”

(Faced with this, I do the only thing I possibly can and bow deeply to her.)

Me: “Khaleesi!”

This story is part of our Game Of Thrones roundup!

Read the next Game Of Thrones roundup story!

Read the Game Of Thrones roundup!

(I am at a school fund raising fair. At one table they are selling books and they have a category of ‘mystery books’ where the books are wrapped so you can’t see what you were getting until after you had paid your dollar. I am standing beside the table when I hear a voice:)

Customer: “Oh, jeeze!”

(Looking over, I saw a teenage boy holding a mystery book that he had just bought and opened. The title of the book was ‘Girls in Love.’)

(I run an independent coffeehouse on the main drag in a small town. A regular walks in, doing her usual purposeful strut to the counter.)

Me: “Hey [Name], how’s it going?”

Customer: “Good. You know what I want?”

(I nod as I begin making her nonfat, no carb latte with extra ice.)

Customer: “You know, I like Criss Angel…”

Me: “Yeah, he’s… something all right.”

Customer: “You know…” *drifts off for a second before coming back down to earth with the rest of us* “I really think he’s the second coming…”

(I stop what I’m doing to look at her as I wait for the punchline. Turns out it’s not coming.)

Customer: “He can do everything Jesus could do.”

(I’m still waiting for the ‘HA! Funny huh?,’ but I see she’s dead serious and waiting for commiseration.)

Me: “Criss Angel is a magician.”

Customer: *nods smiling*

Me: “An illusionist. He does tricks.”

Customer: *her smile slowly fades to a look of total desolation* “Oh.”

(I finished her latte and rung her up. She didn’t say anything else and walked out looking much less sure of herself. I almost felt bad.)

(I am trying to fix the printer on a self-check out machine. I am a girl with long hair pulled back in tight braids and a bun. A loop of hair has snagged on a lag screw on the raised portion of the screen.)

Me: *calling coworker on the phone* “Hey, I got myself stuck in the self-check. Can you come help me?”

Coworker: “Sure.”

(A customer pulls up to her station with a large order. I can’t see her and she can’t see me, so I wait patiently, bent completely over.)

Customer: *walks up to me* “Can you check these out for me?”

(The customer hands me a bunch of bolts.)

Me: “I would be happy to, sir, just as soon as I get unstuck from this machine.”

Customer: “Have you called anyone to help you yet?”

Me: “Yes, sir. She should be here in a moment.”

(There is a very long awkward pause, while the customer just stands there looking at me.)

Customer: “Well….she’s not here yet. I guess I could help ya out.”

Me: “I would appreciate that. Thanks!”

(The customer proceeds to yank violently on my hair. A few strands come completely out of my head. Finally, the loop of hair comes off the lag screw.)

Customer: “There. Will you ring me out now?”