Flying In From Britainistan

, , , , , | Working | June 12, 2018

(My wife and child are going to a family wedding on her side in San Francisco. I can’t go due to work commitments. My wife never took my name after we got married, but my daughter has my surname. We were all born and raised in the UK but we are of Indian descent. When they reach passport control, the lady checks the passports:)

Border Control: “Has your daughter taken your husband’s name?”

Wife: “Yes, she has.”

Border Control: “Do you have the birth certificate with you to show the child is yours?”

Wife: “No, that has never been an issue before.”

Border Control: “Oh, didn’t they ask you for this when you left Pakistan?”

Wife: *rather coldly* “No, we actually came from the UK, and they said nothing.”

(The border control officer goes sheepish and mumbles an apology.)


Double Standards Of Ignorance

, , , , | Right | June 11, 2018

(I work in a bookstore. I’m working the information desk with my male coworker — I’m female. He’s on the phone when an older gentleman walks up to the desk.)

Me: “Hello, how may I help you?”

Customer: “I’d rather wait until he’s done and ask him.” *gestures to my coworker*

Me: “All right, but it might be a bit of a wait. Are you sure I can’t at least get you started?”

Customer: *sneering* “I doubt it, but all right.”

(He then proceeds to explain that he has only the vaguest notion of what the book is about, doesn’t know the title or the author, and can’t give me much to go on. At the time, we don’t have access to the Internet on our computers, just our inventory, so unless we are familiar with the book the customer is describing, it will be a miracle to find it.)

Me: *after searching every which way I can think of in our inventory, spending a good five minutes trying to tease more out of him* “I’m terribly, sorry, sir, but with the limited information you’ve given me, I’m afraid I just can’t find the book you’re looking for. Would it be possible for you to get the title or the author? You can always call us if you’d rather not make another trip here.”

Customer: *smirking now* “See, I knew you’d be no help. I’ll just wait for him.”

Me: “That’s fine, sir.”

(My coworker gets off the phone and the old man goes over to him and gives him the same limited information he gave me.)

Coworker: *shrugging* “No clue what you’re talking about. We can’t find it if you don’t give us the title or something.”

Customer: “That’s quite all right, son. Thank you for your help.”

Me: *speechless*

Not Deaf, But Definitely Blind

, , , , , | Working | June 11, 2018

(I am arranging a training course for several managers at my office. One manager has asked about the facilities. I reply to her email after a brief call with the venue. About an hour later, I am called into the senior manager’s office. Said manager is also there, and she looks to be furious.)

Senior Manager: “I have had a serious accusation from [Manager] that you referred to her in a way that she believes to be homophobic.”

Me: “Oh?”

Senior Manager: “Yes. I won’t repeat it here out of respect to—”

Manager: “BULLS*** LESBIAN! That’s what you called me. I always knew you were a bigot.” *to Senior Manager* “I want his a**e out of here, immediately!”

Me: “I have never referred to you by that. I don’t know if you know, but I’m gay myself.”

Manager: “Oh, a [lesbian slur]-hating [gay slur]. Just typical!”

Senior Manager: “Okay, let’s just calm down for second. When did he call you this?”

Manager: “On his email!”

(She hands a piece of paper to him and glares at me. The senior manager reads it quietly.)

Senior Manager: “Um, [Manager], BSL stands for British Sign Language.”

Manager: “What? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

Senior Manager: *quoting* “’…and the venue also offers BSL interpreters.’ What part of that was meant to suggest ‘BSL’ stands for ‘bulls*** lesbian’?”

Manager: “I… I guess I didn’t read the email.”

Senior Manager: “So, I take it the confusion regarding homophobia has cleared?”

(She nods.)

Me: “Well, not exactly.”

(I then spoke about her referring to me as a “[lesbian slur]-hating [gay slur],” to which she said I was overreacting and stormed out of the office. Yes, I’m overreacting when you called me a “[lesbian slur]-hating [gay slur],” but when I used an acronym that you misunderstood, it was perfectly justified. In the end, she was threatened with dismissal unless she issued a formal apology. I’m still waiting on it, but she’s on unpaid leave until it is received.)


A Bad Case Of Extreme Entitlement

, , , , , | Healthy | June 9, 2018

(I need a trip to the doctor, and the one I am seeing is brand new to me, so I don’t know much about the office. When my husband and I walk in, we are approached by a woman in a wheelchair.)

Patient #1: “If you’re here to see the doctor, there’s a four-hour wait.”

Me: “Seriously?”

Patient #1: “Yeah. It’s really bad. They’ve started using a new system today and they’re having all sorts of trouble with it.”

(A younger woman comes out to take the patient away.)

Husband: “Excuse me, but is it true that if you have an appointment, they’re running four hours behind?”

Young Woman: “Oh, no. That’s just the walk-in clinic. Appointments are running as close to on time as they can get.”

Me: “Thanks.”

(My husband and I go inside and approach the counter.)

Nurse #1: “Hello there. Are you here for the clinic?”

Me: “No, I’ve got an appointment with [Doctor] at three.”

Nurse #1: “All right, then. Let me get some information from you and we’ll get you going.”

(I give her all the pertinent information. She puts it all in, and then her computer beeps and she gives a deep sigh.)

Nurse #1: “I’m sorry. I need to restart the computer, and I’ll have to get your info again. It’s this new system we got. Today is our first day using it and it’s been nothing but trouble.”

Me: “No problem. I understand computers acting up.”

Nurse #1: “Thanks for your understanding.”

(Next to me is another patient trying to get in to see a doctor via the walk-in clinic.)

Patient #2: “What do you mean there’s a four-hour wait? I’m sick. I could die. Why can’t you get me in sooner?”

Nurse #2: “I’m sorry, ma’am. But we’re running behind because of the trouble with our new system. If you don’t want to wait, I can get you an appointment tomorrow morning with your doctor.”

Patient #2: “I don’t have time for that. I’m here now and you will see me now.”

Nurse #2: “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’re going to have to wait.”

Nurse #1: “Okay, [My Name]. Let’s go over that information one more time.” *gives info* “Okay, it took it this time. Here you go. You should be called back shortly.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Patient #2: “Why is she getting in before me? She’s fat. Fat people are always sick. They should have to wait.”

Nurse #2: “She has an appointment with one of our doctors.”

Patient #2: “Then give me her appointment.”

Nurse #2: “We’re not going to do that. Either sit down or take the appointment I’m offering you.”

([Patient #2] continued screaming that “fat people are too sick to see a doctor,” and “I’m more important than everyone here.” She was removed from the office and banned from the clinic.)

Not Wise To Your Gay Agenda

, , , , , | Related | June 8, 2018

(I’m driving home with my grandfather. I’m trans, but none of my family know yet. I decide to test the waters by mentioning the recent Bathroom Bill.)

Me: “Grandpa, do you know what a trans person is?”

Grandpa: “Yes.”

Me: “So, you know what trans men and trans women are, right?”

Grandpa: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay. I used to get them mixed up, so do you want me to define them?”

Grandpa: “No! I know what they are!”

Me: “Well… Do you think trans women should use the women’s restroom, or the men’s?”

Grandpa: “The women’s, obviously!”

(My heart soars.)

Me: “Really?! So, you think trans women are women, even if they weren’t assigned as women at birth?”

Grandpa: “WHAT? You tricked me! NO! Obviously not! Those freaks need to use the bathrooms on their birth certificate!”

(He went into a rant as my heart sank. I don’t think I’ll be coming out… ever.)

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