Some Days You’re A Little M, Others A Little Z

I work for a government agency which is very politically correct. By law, they have to publish a breakdown of their staff’s religion, sexual orientation, and so on. This results in asking this sort of thing, and it is listed on a secret database somewhere.

So, when I got an email asking for my “national identity,” I was expecting a thorough list of options. It doesn’t mean what passport you carry; it means where your heart is. Are you British, Irish, British-Irish, British-Indian, Welsh, German, and so on?

It was even better than I thought. The list included: Prefer not to say, British Cypriot, European, London Irish, Earth Citizen, Malabari Malaysian, Yorkshireman, Training Login, Not Applicable, Other, Undecided, Undeclared, I Do Not Know, and the letters Z and M.

That’s right. The list contained two letters, a continent, a legal fiction, and about six legit ways to avoid the question entirely. I could select up to three of these.

I chose to be a Training Account.