Caller: “Yes, I was told to call this number.”
(Silence.)
Me: “Okay, what did you need help with?”
Caller: “I don’t think I need help.”
Me: “Okay—“
Caller: “I just got an email that said to call this number if I had any questions.”
Me: “Okay, what was your question?”
Caller: “Oh, I don’t have any questions. But the email said to call.”
(I am using the restroom at a department store. The only other people around are a man and his three-year-old son who are wrapping up their business.)
Man: “Now we have to wash our hands.”
Boy: “I didn’t pee on mine.”
(It is a slow day in the store so I am walking around talking to customers. I approach a lady who is looking confused and staring at the mannequins.)
Me: “Hi. Can I help you find anything?”
Customer: “I know how to pick out clothes for myself, unlike these mannequins here. Why do they dress themselves so terribly?” *wanders off*
(I am getting coffee at a local gas station one morning. Behind me is a man who is very obviously a construction worker. I’m quietly whistling “Baby Elephant Walk (the theme from Hatari!)” to myself while I pour my coffee.)
Construction Worker: “Ah, nothing like a little Henry Mancini to start the morning off right.”
(That taught me never to judge a book by its cover.)
(Some thirty-plus years ago, my mother is giving birth. The doctor has just come in from doing a hysterectomy and is not paying the best of attention. Fortunately, all is going well, and my brother is born safely. Then, this happens.)
Doctor: “It’s a girl!”
Dad: *takes one look* “That’s no girl.”
(Punchline: last summer, my brother came out as my transgender sister.)
This story is part of our Sisters’ Day roundup!
Read the next Sisters’ Day story here!
Read the Sisters’ Day roundup!
