(My boyfriend and I were just leaving the gym after a strenuous ab workout routine that I designed. It is important to point out for the sake of the story that my name is Jess.)

Boyfriend: “Send me those ab workouts again… I need to practice them.”

Me: “Sure. Heck, I can even send you the video I got them from. That way, you can watch a pretty girl doing them!”

Boyfriend: “So?”

Me: “I thought that was a good motivation for guys.”

Boyfriend: “Okay, first of all, I already got to watch a beautiful girl doing them. It was still difficult. Second of all, I’m changing my sexual orientation! I’m Jess-sexual!”

Me: “…You’re what, now?”

Boyfriend: “Jess-sexual! So, even when looking at other girls that may be subjectively pretty, I’m not attracted to them. I only have eyes for you.”

Me: “Awwww! …Wait, this doesn’t apply to other girls named Jess, does it?”

Boyfriend: “Okay, I’m Jess-[My Last Name]-sexual.”

Me: “Yeah, you were better off with the first one. I really don’t think we should make this more specific than it already is…”

(I am a Hispanic woman and my coworkers are of various races. I have to write down a list of names for the swimming schedules when my pen, with blue ink, breaks before I write the last name.)

Me: “Great.”

(I write the last name with a black pen, before I sign my name at the bottom. A black coworker comes past.)

Coworker #1: “Hey, what’s THAT?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Coworker #1: “Oh, you WELL know what I mean!”

(She jabs a finger at the last name.)

Coworker #1: “That’s [Coworker #2]! You’re racist!”

(I have written my black coworker’s name in black ink, where everyone else, who happens to be white, Hispanic, and Chinese, aren’t.)

Me: “No, I’m not. The pen ran—”

Coworker #1: “Oh, no, don’t you start excusing. I’m going to get [Managers] on you!”

(She ran off, shrieking their names. I’m not punished at all after they laugh about it, all while my coworker was yelling about how ‘everyone she works with are god-d*** racists.’)

(I work at a small gym where we get most of our cleaning and other duties done fairly quickly. Many of us workout during dead times. We have tvs on only one of the walls.)

Me: *to my manager* “Hey, if there’s nothing else you need me to do, I’d like to get a bit of a workout in, if that’s all right.”

Manager: “So long as you watch the door while you’re at it.”

Me: “Don’t worry; I’ll just be on [machine that’s near the door].”

Manager: “That’s great. I always turn that one around when I workout and I have to watch the door. Here let me help you!”

(She helps me turn it around.)

Manager: “Perfect! Now you can see the door perfectly.”

Me: *jokingly* “Aw man, but now I can’t watch TV.” *beat* “Not that I watch TV on the clock.”

(I am changing in one of the cubicles at my gym, when I overhear this:)

Kid: “Mummy, how come you look hilarious, but I look perfection?”

(It’s my birthday. I work at a gym and upon arriving I see it has been decorated by my manager and boyfriend with a variety of gift baskets filled with healthy snacks.)

Boyfriend: “So, we’ve got the healthy snacks out here for everyone, and a sign letting them know why, and in here-” *brings me to the office* “-is your big gift.”

(Pulls out a giant basket of chocolate. My eyes go wide.)

Boyfriend: “This one you can choose to share or—”

Me: *holding the basket tightly* “NO!”