(My mother is an x-ray technician at a large hospital in Alabama, and it should be noted that she grew up in the Rocky Mountains of Nevada. One day, everyone starts rushing around frantically, and half the staff are heading home early. When she asks, she is told…)

Coworker #1: “I have to get up the mountain before the storm hits!”

Mom: “Mountain? What mountain? And what do you mean, ‘before the storm hits?’”

Coworker #1: “They just announced a snowstorm is going to hit Huntsville, starting in just a few hours. They’ve already cancelled schools and sent the kids home early. But a lot of us live on the other side of the mountain, so we need to get there before the storm hits, or we’ll never make it!”

Mom: “Again, what mountain? There are no mountains around here.”

(After a few more rounds of useless talk, and hearing the weather report for herself, she finally drags the coworker to a window.)

Mom: “What mountain?!”

Coworker #1: “Over there!”

Mom: *squints* “That’s not a mountain. That’s a hill. Maybe. More like a gentle rise.”

(Just then, another hospital employee comes up with a clipboard, looking rather harried.)

Nurse: “Okay, [Mom]… [Mom]…. Oh! Right. Your ride is [Coworker #2], and he’ll be there to pick you up at 5:30 tomorrow.”

Mom: “My ride? I drive myself, thanks. And my shift doesn’t start until 8:00, anyway.”

Nurse: “Oh, I know. But with all the snow, most people won’t be able to make it in. So, we’ve dropped to the bare essential staff, and everyone with four-wheel-drive is going around to pick up everybody else. You’re on [Coworker #2]’s route, and he’ll be there at 5:30.”

Mom: “You do realize I’m from Nevada, right? Rocky Mountains? Snow? My car has front-wheel drive. I’ll be here for my shift. You can take me off the list.”

Nurse: “But you need four-wheel-drive to drive in snow! What if you don’t make it? What if you crash? The ambulances won’t get to you in time!”

Mom: “We’re expecting ‘up to an inch.’ It’s not exactly a blizzard. I’ll be fine. Take my name off the list, because if someone comes pounding on my door at 5:30, my husband and I will not be pleased.”

(Mom left at her normal time and made it home, on the other side of the “mountain,” just fine. A little slow, due to traffic, but fine. The next morning, she likewise made it into work without incident, and was the only person who was well-rested, having slept her normal eight hours, instead of carpooling in hours early.)

(It’s the first class period, and we’re in a law enforcement class. As it is too cold to go outside and practice mock-arresting, our teacher keeps us in and we wind up talking about how cold it’s been this year.)

Me: “It’s not just here; I saw pictures of snow covering the Sphinx.”

Classmate: “Wait. Egypt still exists?”

Me: “Yes? It’s still a country in Africa.”

Classmate: “Oh, you mean with Chile and Brazil?”

Me: “No, that’s South America.”

Classmate: “Aren’t those the same thing?”

(I’m in an online chat room with a friend of mine. I’m Belgian, he’s Irish, and he’s just invited a new, British friend to the group to play an online game or two together.)

British Friend: “Where are you from?”

Me: “Belgium.”

British Friend: “I know next to nothing about your country. Not even a stereotype. Anything you guys are known for?”

Me: “We’re known for chocolate, beer, waffles, pedophiles, and french fries.”

(There’s a pause after this, and after about 20 seconds he replies.)

British Friend: “Oh, I love waffles!”

(We quickly became good friends after that.)

(My friends and I are all big Rugby supporters. At one point one of my friends introduces us to a young female couple that she knows. To put it mildly, they are both quite opinionated and rude, but because my friend likes them, I resolve to be civil to them. During the 2007 Rugby World Cup, South Africa looks likely to win it, and one of the girls starts putting up all manner of patriotic South Africa posts. For the final, she turns up at the bar wearing her Springbok jersey and goes crazy when they beat England to win. After, we’re all having a drink and she has an annoying smug grin on her face. My friend and my housemate are also there with me as well.)

Friend’s Friend: “Oh my God, I am so PROUD to be South African today!”

Me: “So, which part of your family is South African?”

Friend’s Friend: “My dad used to live there.”

Housemate: “He was born there?”

Friend’s Friend: “No, he was born in Rusholme; his parents lived there.”

Me: “So, his parents are South African then?”

(Suddenly, the girl gives me a really nasty look as if I’ve touched a nerve.)

Friend’s Friend: “Well…no, they’re from England.”

(Almost immediately, my friends and I exchange some worried glances. We can tell this conversation won’t end well.)

Friend: “So, did he grow up and go to school there at least?”

Friend’s Friend: “No, they just lived there for a couple years.”

Me: “Umm… so, you’re not South African then?”

Friend’s Friend: “What are you talking about? Of course, I am!”

Housemate: “You just said none of your family is South African, that means that you’re not either!”

Friend’s Friend: “My dad lived there, that makes me South African!”

Me: “My mum briefly lived in Japan as a child, but she doesn’t tell go around telling people she’s Japanese!”

Friend’s Friend: “ARE YOU ALL F****** STUPID? I’M A BLOODY SPRINGBOK, BORN AND BRED!”

Friend: “Sweetie, I’m sorry, but you’re not! You need to be a South African citizen, or at least have ancestry from there, to be what you’re claiming. Your dad living there doesn’t automatically make you a Bok!”

(Suddenly, the girl let out a really loud scream, which turned a lot of heads toward her, before storming out of the bar with her girlfriend in tow. She refused to speak to any of us again after that, and when we would see her on nights out she would avoid us like the plague. We heard through a mutual friend that she claimed we had “ruined her life” through our observations. Not really sure how she thought citizenship worked, but clearly she had the wrong idea.)

(I work at a well-known fast food restaurant.)

Me: “Hi! What would you like?”

Customer: “How much is a double cheeseburger?”

Me: “It’s $1.”

Customer: “Okay. I’d like a double cheeseburger, please.”

Me: “That’ll be $1.07.”

Customer: “I hate this country. I forgot about tax.”

Me: “Oh. What country are you from?”

Customer: “Hawaii.”