(I am out at a gay bar with my boyfriend and his best friend. All of us are white gay males, but live in a part of the country that’s quite ethnically diverse. We’re waiting for one of my exes to arrive, whom I am still on good terms with. My boyfriend’s friend has his Grindr app open, looking around the bar. I catch a glimpse of it.)

Me: “What the h***?!”

Friend: “What?”

Me: “Your profile! It says “No Asians””

Friend: “Yeah, I’m not into Asians.”

Me: “That’s very racist!”

Friend: “How? I just don’t find them attractive.”

Me: “Every single Asian?”

Friend: “Well, not really.”

Me: “So you’ve met every Asian from all over the world, have you?”

Friend: “Of course not, but—”

Me: “Then how can you know there is not a single Asian you find attractive?”

(My boyfriend has heard my voice rising throughout the conversation.)

Boyfriend: “It’s okay, [My Name]. [Friend] isn’t racist.”

Me: “If you make a decision or judgment about someone based solely and entirely on their race, is that a racist decision?”

Boyfriend: “I think what [Friend] means is—”

Me: “Yes or no. Is it a racist decision?”

Boyfriend: “Well… yes. But—”

Me: “There we go, then.”

Friend: “What’s the big deal? I just don’t find Asian guys sexually attractive. It’s a preference, not racism.”

Me: “Okay, then, why is that?”

Friend: “What is what?”

Me: “What is it about Asians that you don’t find desirable?”

Friend: “I don’t know… I just don’t.”

Me: “What about black guys?”

Friend: “Uh…”

Me: “So it’s just white guys you’re into, then?”

Friend: “I guess so. But I’m not racist! I have black friends!”

Me: “And you label them your ‘Black Friends’ do you?”

Boyfriend: “[My Name], chill out!”

Me: “I will not. I am not saying you’re Trump or anything, but you’re perpetuating the ideology that one race is superior to another, in this case, out of sexual prowess. White man is sexy and strong; Asian man is unattractive and weak. I’m telling you this because I want you to look inside and ask yourself why is it you feel this way? Also, I am saving you.”

Friend: “Saving me?! From what?”

Me: “From him.”

(We all turn to see my ex has arrived. A 6 foot, Korean-American body-builder with an amazingly handsome face, at least in my opinion. He comes on over and says hello.)

Ex: “Sorry I’m late. So… what we talking about?”

(I look pointedly at my boyfriend’s friend.)

Friend: “Oh… nothing… uh… So, who wants a round of drinks?”

(I work in a pub that mainly caters to people drinking but also has a small menu for those looking to eat.)

Customer: “There’s not much on the menu for my family of vegans.”

Me: “I’d be happy to ask our chef to make some alterations for you.”

Customer: “Great, in that case we will have…” *lists four meals all with major alterations that come to resemble nothing from our menu*

Me: “Okay, I’ll see what we can do.”

(I speak to the kitchen and luckily they are happy to make these changes. During the wait, the customer comes up several times to ensure the food will be vegan-friendly. When I deliver the meals to their table…)

Me: “Here you go. Can I get anything else for you?”

Customer: “Mayonnaise.”

Related:
Don’t Have A Cow, Man

(I’m miles from home in a little pub after a day’s training session. Tired, I go down to the busy pub for some dinner.)

Me: “Excuse me, is anyone sitting there?”

Pretty Woman: “Oh, sorry, but I’m not interested.”

Me: “I really only wanted the seat.”

Pretty Woman: “Yeah, right.”

(I sit down anyway and quickly my colleagues arrive.)

Me: “Hey, guys, plenty of room over here.”

Me: *to the woman* “Is it okay if they sit here? I can assure you that none of them are interested in you either.”

Pretty Woman: “Ugh!” *storms off*

(My boyfriend loves to explain things and everybody who knows him teasingly calls him the ultimate mansplainer. We are out drinking with my friend, who is a woman, when this happens.)

Boyfriend: *end of long rant* “…and that’s why that’s like that.”

Friend: “Oh, my god.”

Me: “You’re such a mansplainer, darling.”

Boyfriend: “I’m not mansplaining! I’m only explaining so you girls will understand!”

(I am hosting the karaoke night at a suburban bar. It is popular now but was a ghost town the first several weeks. On a quiet night, I announce at 12:55 that I’m off the clock at 1:00, so to get the last couple songs in right away if anyone wanted to sing. No takers. At 1:05…)

Patron: “If I want to put in a song request, do I give it to you?”

Me: “Yes, but five minutes ago. I can’t get any more songs in; I’ve already shut down and started pulling the plugs.”

Patron: “Just turn it back on. It’s only like four switches.”

Me: “That easy, eh? Okay, go ahead. Turn it back on.”

Patron: “What?”

Me: “Well if it’s that easy, go ahead and turn it back on. If you can do that, I’ll let you sing your song, and I’ll even waive my $50/hour overtime rate.”

Patron: “So I guess I’m singing that song next week?”