Maybe He’s A Jimophobe?

, , , , | Working | July 26, 2018

(I am ordering a coffee. The barista has asked for a name to put on the cup. I use my nickname, Jim. I then take my place with the other customers waiting.)

Barista: *after several minutes* “GERM!”

(No one responds.)

Barista: “GERM! J-I-M, GERM!”

(I walk up to him, slightly discombobulated. He pushes the coffee into my hands.)

Barista: “Why the h*** didn’t you answer when I called the first time?”

Me: “I’ve never heard anyone say my name like that.”

Barista: “Well, how am I supposed to know how you say it?!”

Me: “You took my order, though. You heard me say it.”

Barista: “So?”

Me: “And you spelled it right on the cup.”

Barista: “So?!”

Me: “What did I say my name was?”

Barista: “Jim.”

Me: “And somehow, in the space of a few minutes, you forgot how to pronounce it?”

Barista: “It’s not my problem if you have an unpronounceable name.” *turns and works on the next order*

(I would have just ignored it and gotten on with my life, but I’m sure the guy was playing a game with me, as I’ve also used my full first name, to which he shouted, “Janine!” and when I gave him “Bob,” he shouted, “Burp!” I don’t go in there anymore, and the place looks a lot less crowded than it used to.)

Turn That Brown Upside-Down

, , , , | Related | July 23, 2018

(I am eight and at a work event with my mom. It is important to note that one of my mother’s coworkers and her kids are black.)

Me: “Mom, look! The Brown kids are here!”

Mom: “[My Name]!”

Me: “What? That’s their last name, right?”

Mom: “Oh. Yes it is.”

Mona Gleasa

, , , | Working | July 17, 2018

Customer Service Rep: “Can I have your last name, please?”

Me: “Gleason.”

Customer Service Rep: “Okay, Lisa! And can I have your last name?”

About To Go (Mark Of The) Beast-Mode On Your Neighbor

, , , , , | Friendly | July 12, 2018

(My neighbor and I have a long-seeded history of hate for one another. It started with her giving me snarky remarks about weaning my son from his bottle at ten months old and escalated from there. I am sitting on my other neighbor’s deck, just talking to [Neighbor #1]. The neighbor I do not like, [Neighbor #2], walks up and just butts into the conversation. My husband starts bringing my son over so I call out:)

Me: “Yay, here comes [Son]!”

(His name happens to be the same name as the kid from “The Omen.”)

Neighbor #2: “Oh, lord! Please tell me that’s not your child’s name! Don’t take this the wrong way, but anyone with the name ‘[Son]’ belongs in Hell with all the demons and Satan himself! I knew a ‘[Son]’ once and he was the absolute worst person I have ever met in my life! You’ve condemned your child to a life of Hell! He will rot in Hell with the rest of his kind.”

(I was absolutely the maddest I have ever been, but I somehow worked up the strength to walk away. She told me my two-year-old son belonged in Hell with Satan just because of his name, and I wasn’t supposed to take that the wrong way?)


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Around The School In Eighty Students

, , , , , , | Learning | June 28, 2018

Student: “Miss!”

Teacher: “My name is Ms. [Teacher], not Miss. You may also call me Coach.”

Student: “You can’t expect me to remember your name! I have seven teachers!”

Teacher: “And I have eighty students, [Student].”

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