Christmas Must Be A Nightmare For The Smiths

, , | Working | February 5, 2020

(My neighbor and I happen to share the same last name — a common Spanish surname. The postman has been getting our mail mixed up since I moved in. I finally catch him in the act one day.)

Me: “I’m actually [My Name]. [Neighbor] is my neighbor.”

Postman: “Aren’t you related?”

Me: “No, it’s a common last name. He’s been living here ten years longer than I have.”

Postman: *scoffs* “But you have the same last name. That must mean you’re related.”

Me: “What’s your last name?”

Postman: [Common English Name].”

Me: “Do you know all of the [Common English Name]s?”

(He paused, turned bright red, and then put the mail in the correct box. He hasn’t screwed up since.)

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Unable To Digest That Women Have Other Parts

, , , , | Healthy | February 5, 2020

(My aunt wakes up one day with very bad stomach pain and gas. My uncle goes to the pharmacy for her and has this conversation with the pharmacist at the counter.)

Uncle: “My wife has stomach pain; what kind of medicine should she take?”

Pharmacist: *in a nonchalant tone* “It must be period cramps. Don’t worry.”

Uncle: “My wife who’s menopaused for two years? I don’t think so.”

Pharmacist: “Then it’s her menopause. Again, no worries.”

Uncle: “I didn’t know menopause could cause stomach pain.”

Pharmacist: *now with a more pedantic tone* “Well, you see, it’s not her stomach. Don’t worry about it.”

(By now my uncle is getting a little pissed off by the pharmacist’s insistence, so he puts his hands on the counter and speaks slowly.)

Uncle: “Listen here. My wife wakes up with stomach pain. The upper part of her belly is swollen; that’s where the stomach is. And she has gas coming from her digestive system, where the stomach is connected. Can I have a medicine for that or not?”

(The pharmacist went to his manager, who found the correct medicine in one minute. We don’t know why he was so insistent with his false diagnosis.)

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Don’t Want To Hangul Out With Dad Anymore

, , , , , , | Right | February 1, 2020

(I am twelve years old. We are at a popular theme park where there are “pavilions” from about a dozen countries with employees from the various places. We are in the China section and I have asked to buy a parasol. My dad does not like these theme parks and is very hot and cranky.)

Me: “May I buy a parasol, please?”

Employee: “Of course! Would you like your name written on it in Chinese?”

Dad: “Hey, can you write her name in Korean, instead?”

(My mom and I stare open-mouthed at my father.)

Employee: “Sorry, sir, but I do not know how to write in Korean.”

Dad: “God, I can’t understand why you won’t just put her f****** name in Korean!” *stomps away, my mom chasing after him*

Me: *to employee* “I am so sorry for him. My name’s [My Name].”

Employee: “It’s okay. Here you go — your name in Chinese!”

(To this day, we haven’t had the guts to ask my dad why he thought the Chinese employee would write my name in Korean!)

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Careful, The North Remembers…

, , , , | Right | January 31, 2020

(I work in a ticket office for a historical property in the north of England. I’ve been happily chatting away to this customer and his son. Both have very posh southern accents and were very happily chatting back to me, until…)

Me: “That’ll be £5.60 for your ticket today, please.”

(The man stares blankly at me for a few seconds. I’m not sure if he heard me, so I try again.)

Me: “That’s £5.60, please.”

(He smiles at me, nodding his head slowly, but makes no move to pay for his ticket.)

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “You have a very weird voice, you know that?”

Me: “Um…”

Customer: “Yes. You sound terribly northern. I can’t even tell a word you’re saying! It’s all very strange. Then again, I bet I sound very odd to you, don’t I?”

Me: “Oh, well, I’m sorry if you’ve had trouble with my accent, but you are up north now.”

(He nods, his blank expression back on his face. His son nudges him.)

Customer’s Son: “Dad, stop insulting the lady and give her your money.”

Customer: “Oh, yes! I forgot about paying!”

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Send Him Back Some Materials On Misogyny

, , , , , | Working | January 29, 2020

(I work at a small engineering company. It is a wonderful place, everyone is really friendly, and we all hang out together off work and know each other’s families. I am the only female engineer there. The company is growing fast, so they hire a new office assistant. The guy is kind of incompetent, which we initially justify as having little experience, and often says things that come out sexist or racist. We pass that off as him being socially awkward or trying too hard to fit in. I guess we are so used to our great work environment, it doesn’t occur to most of us he is just an a**hole. Then, this happens. The company is to have a stand in a large conference overseas, and this guy fails to send some of the conference material – pamphlets, trinkets, etc. – in time. I am the last one to leave for the conference, by a few days, so the CEO asks me to bring some of it with my luggage. No problem, I think.)

Assistant: “So, this is what you’ll need to take to the conference.”

Me: *eyeing the large, heavy box* “All right. I was only taking one bag, anyway, so we’re okay on luggage count, but this will probably be overweight. How will I get compensated for that?”

Assistant: “It’s your responsibility to pack your bags to the airline standards. I know girls like to carry their houses in their bags, but you can live lean for a week!”

Me: *ignoring his comment* “I can probably rearrange this box between two bags and pack my things around it, so it should still be okay. Worst case, I can talk to [CEO] when I get there, I guess. And my cab to the airport is arranged already, so I just need a cab to get me home with this stuff.”

Assistant: “Don’t be silly. Transportation to and from work is on you; you know that.”

Me: “Sure, normally. But I take the subway, and I can’t take this big box in it.”

Assistant: “So, get your own cab. Just like a woman to want to make the most of a man’s money.” *laughs*

Me: *getting annoyed* “I’m certainly not spending my money on doing what should be your job. I’m doing this as a favor to [CEO] and the company.”

Assistant: “Look here, little girl. Just because you think you’re so smart and [CEO] lets you play at doing a man’s job, that doesn’t mean you can be this disrespectful. Now, you will take this material and get it to the conference, since that’s your only use for going in the first place.”

Me: “Yeah, no. I’m 24 with a Master’s degree in [specific engineering field], so I don’t have to think I’m smart. I was specifically invited to speak at this conference, so I’d be going even if there was no company stand there. And there probably won’t be, because I’m definitely not taking any of this crap with me.”

Assistant: “You’ll see what happens when [CEO] hears about this!”

(I left the material and went to the conference. When I got there and told [CEO] of this conversation, he was FURIOUS. Seems he’d told the assistant to go to the airport himself with the box, so it wouldn’t inconvenience me, and to pay all extra luggage fees as needed on the company card. The guy might have still only gotten a warning — that’s how lenient this place was — but, as it turns out, he mouthed off to the CEO, told him he should put the “girl” in her place, as everyone knew she was only there to “see to his needs,” just like the one he used at lunch. That would be the CEO’s wife, who sometimes went by the office so they could have lunch together. So, yeah, he was very much fired after that!)

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