Making Free Speech Great Again

, , , | Learning | March 15, 2019

(I go to a very diverse and liberal school; however, many people are VERY bigoted. The school policy allows expressing political opinions through clothing, as long as it isn’t hate speech. One very cold day, I grab my crocheted pink Women’s March hat last second and run to the bus. There isn’t a problem until lunch when an admin comes up to me.)

Admin: “[My Name], you need to take your hat off. It’s offensive.”

(I surrender it, but I point to a kid wearing a MAGA hat.)

Me: “Okay, but why doesn’t he need to take his hat off?”

Admin: “It’s not hate speech.”

Me: “Wait. What? My Women’s March hat is hate speech, but his hat supporting a bigoted president isn’t?”

Admin: *skirting the issue* “It’s his free speech.”

Me: “Okay. So, he gets free speech but I don’t?”

Admin: “Well, this hat basically proclaims that you hate men.”

Me: *internal sigh* “No, it doesn’t. Also, his hat says that he basically hates everyone who is not a white, straight, Catholic male.”

Admin: “Keep talking and I’ll give you lunch detention.”

Me: “For what?”

Admin: “Arguing with school faculty.”

Me: “Okay, but this is classic discrimination, so…”

(The admin gets a scared look and hands me back my hat.)

Me: “That’s what I thought.”

Winning That Race

, , , , , , | Friendly | March 11, 2019

(Some coworkers and I are having our break in a lunchroom. It’s quiet in the lunchroom with some music softly playing. We’ve had a stressful, hectic morning, so we’re fine just eating our food and relaxing. Two women and a six- or seven-year-old boy come in and sit down at a table on the other end of the lunchroom. Within a minute, the boy gets up and starts running up and down the lunchroom with his arms spread, making noises like he’s a jet fighter. With every turn he makes he increases his volume to the point where he is screaming. The two women don’t notice this because they are completely absorbed in their phones. My Indian coworker grabs the boy by the arm as he passes our table again screaming at the top of his voice. In a quiet voice, my coworker tells the boy to sit down and shut up or he’ll take him to the toilets and flush him. The boy starts crying and one of the women comes storming at our table. When she’s near enough to hear him, my Indian coworker says:)

Coworker: “And that, my boy, is the reason why it is not nice to call people like me a brown ape.”

(The woman’s face turns red, she pulls the boy away from my coworker, and she leaves the place with her friend in a hurry. My coworker smiles and just says:)

Coworker: “Ah, peace. The most precious thing in our society.”

Fajita For The Conchita

, , , , | Working | March 7, 2019

It’s a late night and we’ve all just got off shift. My coworkers and I decide to go as a group to a fast-casual place nearby with late hours. It should be noted I am one of three females in the group. When we get there, I order the fajita platter.

After a wait, the server starts to bring out the food. Before he serves me, he puts about four small plates in front of me. When I ask him what they’re for, he stares at me and says, “So you can share the fajita platter.”

I reply that he’s misunderstood; the fajitas are just for me. My two male coworkers who are next to me ordered their own food. He looks at them and they reply, “Yes, we have our own food.”

The server looks at us funny, but he brings our food without any fuss. I eat my fajitas and everyone else eats their food. Apparently, because I am a woman surrounded by men, I am expected to share. Oddly, he didn’t do that to my other female coworkers, who were also sitting next to men.

You’ve Got Male, But Not Babies

, , , , , , | Healthy | March 7, 2019

(I am a trans guy, currently at the doctor’s office for an ear infection. The person I’m seeing about it is the nurse practitioner, our practice’s head nurse.)

Nurse: “Are you sexually active?”

Me: “Yes.”

Nurse: “Is there a chance you could be pregnant?”

Me: “Nope.”

Nurse: “I know your partner is male; you could be pregnant.”

Me: “I’m not.”

Nurse: “Just because you think you’re a man, that doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant.”

Me: “Not pregnant.”

Nurse: “You still have female anatomy. Quit pretending you don’t. All you people are like this, thinking you can’t get pregnant because you think you’re not a girl. I’m giving you a pregnancy test.”

Me: “I had a hysterectomy last year; my medical records are in front of you.”

Nurse: “That doesn’t matter. You people are all like this. I’m giving you a pregnancy test.”

Not Being A Sexist A**: That’s The Ticket

, , , | Right | March 1, 2019

(I work in a bank. We have a system where each client takes a ticket as they come in, which needs to be scanned when they reach the front desk. It is mostly used to record waiting times but is a requirement to do banking with us, as our system doesn’t allow us to access client accounts without first scanning a ticket. There are workarounds, but generally, we aren’t allowed to use them. The average wait time at the moment is fifteen minutes. I finish with one client and a gentleman approaches my desk immediately after.)

Me: “Hello. Could I have your ticket, please?”

Gentleman: “I need to cash this cheque, please.”

Me: “Certainly, sir. Could I please have your ticket?”

Gentleman: “I didn’t get one. Can you hurry? I need this cheque cashed.”

(Before I can say anything else, he turns to the man being helped by my colleague and mutters, “Women,” in an unimpressed tone. I take an instant dislike to it.)

Me: “Actually, sir, you need a ticket in order to continue.”

Gentleman: “No, you don’t.”

Me: “Yes, I do. In order to access the computer, a ticket first needs to be scanned.”

Gentleman: “Listen, sweetheart. You must be new. You can work around the ticket lock. The manager does it all the time.”

Me: “I am aware of that, sir. However, as this is the second time you have spoken out of turn in relation to my gender, I have decided not to make that exception for you. You will need a ticket to continue.”

Gentleman: “Oh, really? I’ll just get this young man to help me once my good friend here has finished.”

Colleague: “No ticket, no service.”

(He blushes, but reluctantly takes a ticket and waits in line. Fifteen minutes later, he returns.)

Gentleman: *throwing the ticket and cheque at me* “Money. Now.”

Me: “Of course.”

(I cash his cheque.)

Gentleman: “I also want something extra for making me wait twice as long.”

Me: “I wasn’t the one who neglected to take a ticket.”

Gentleman: “You’re just angry at me because I’m a man who refuses to cower beneath your lesbian feminism.”

Me: “Well, you have certainly lost any chance of getting something ‘extra’ from me.”

Gentleman: “I don’t need a woman to give me extra. I can get a man… umm, manager. Get me the manager.”

(I call the manager.)

Manager: *before I can speak* “The guy’s an a**. He jumped in front of a pregnant woman the second he came through the door. Call security if he gets hostile.”

Me: *smiling* “The manager isn’t interested in taking your request, and would like you to please leave.”

(To my surprise, he didn’t become aggressive. He just took a step back, stared at me for a short while, and left. I haven’t seen him since.)

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