(I am sitting at work talking to one of my coworkers. Note: I am originally Danish.)
Coworker: “So, you speak Danish, right? That’s not the same as Dutch, is it?”
Me: “No, Dutch people are from The Netherlands.”
Coworker: “Oh, okay. So, if you speak Danish, are you from Finland then?”
(I work in a welfare office where we have to know about citizenship and national origin. My unit is comprised of the Somali boss, a Russian girl, a Filipino girl, an African American girl, a Mexican guy, an Indian girl, and me; I’m mixed.)
Boss #1: “Well, [Coworker] was doing an intake and asked a Puerto Rican client, “So, are you a naturalized citizen?” I kept trying to tell her that he was born in Puerto Rico, so he’s a US citizen, but she wasn’t getting it.”
Me: “Well it’s a US territory, as is American Samoa, I know there are more, though.”
Indian Coworker: “Well, there’s some I didn’t know either.”
Boss #1: “…and Guam.”
(I walk away and walk back to find my boss relating the story to the rest of my entire unit.)
African American Coworker: “…and the Virgin Islands!”
Boss #1: “…and the problem is a lot of people don’t know the difference between Marshall Islands and Marina Islands.”
Filipino Coworker: “They can work here, but why can’t they get benefits?”
Russian Coworker: “…and it’s different for types of aid! It makes no sense.”
(As multiple conversations go on, Boss #2 shows up.)
Boss #2: “What are you guys talking about?”
Me: “We’re talking about US territories and citizenship implications on benefits. But in all fairness, some people in the US don’t know there are 50 states.”
Another Coworker: “Alabama, Alaska…”
Boss #2: “Alaska? I want to visit that island some day!”
Another Coworker & Me: “…Island?”
Me: “It’s not an island. It’s a peninsula.”
Boss #2: “No! It’s an island. Pull it up on the map!”
Me: “Uhh, [Boss #2], Alaska is connected to Canada.”
Boss #2: “…but on the map…”
Me: “US maps show the continental United States which are contiguous, but shows Alaska and Hawaii off to the side. But Alaska is still a peninsula connected to Canada.”
Boss #2: “Oh, really?! I guess we all have our blonde moments…”
(I’m a British exchange student working at a Tennessee supermarket. I have a very obvious accent. I’m stocking the shelves when I need to place an item out of my reach.)
Me: “Hey, [Coworker], can you give me a hand?”
Customer: “Oh, my! Your accent is amazing! Are you English?”
(I nod.)
Customer: “Oooh, ooh… can you say…” *in a very bad Cockney accent* “Can I please get some help setting up this fish and chips so I can retire for tea time?”
Me: “Erm? Sorry, I won’t.”
Customer: “Well, why not?! I thought all you British people liked tea and fish and chips.”
Coworker: “If I were to ask you why you aren’t wearing blue jean overalls or ending every sentence with “Y’all”, would you be offended?”
Customer: “Well, of course I would!”
(Both my coworker and I raise our eyebrows at her. We watch as her face turns red with realization.)
Customer: “O-oh… I’m sorry.”
(The customer quickly walks to the next aisle, face still red as a beet.)
Coworker: “Sorry about that. We get a lot of people like that around here.”
Me: “Well, at least she didn’t make a comment about my teeth.”
(My coworker is a giant ditz, which would be acceptable if she weren’t also extremely rude.)
Coworker #1: “Hey, what’s the matter? You look like crap.”
Me: “Gee, thanks. I’m pretty down because my grandma just died on Saturday.”
Coworker #1: “What the h*** are you talking about? It’s Friday!”
Me: “Yeah, and?”
Coworker #1: “So, Saturday hasn’t even happened yet. Duh!”
(Overhearing this exchange, my coworker steps in.)
Coworker #2: *to coworker #1* “Were you perhaps dropped on your head when you were a baby? There is a Saturday every week!”
(It’s about 9 o’clock at night, and I’m having a quick conversation with a hilarious coworker of mine. We’re near the self-checkout, but the smell of poop is in the air. I figure it is just the bathrooms because they always smell.)
Coworker: “Take my hand.” *holds hand out to shake*
(I figure it’s one of her tricks, so I refuse.)
Me: “No.”
Coworker: “Aw, come on. I didn’t do anything to it.”
Me: *shake her hand*
Coworker: “I picked up poo with that hand!”
Me: *quickly pulling my hand away* “WHAT?! You’re kidding, right?”
Coworker: “No.” *starts to laugh*
Me: “You’re kidding. You HAVE to be kidding!”
(I found out later that she really wasn’t kidding. Someone pooped in their pants over by the self-checkout. It fell onto the floor, and my coworker bravely picked it up with a bag. I drenched my hand in hand sanitizer afterward!)
