Here We Pokémon Go Again, Part 12

, , , , , , | Working | September 14, 2017

(I’m well-known around my work as being a Pokémon fan, having been one since before I started working here about 17  years ago, so it is no surprise when I start playing “Pokémon Go”. A coworker’s little girl, who’s about four, is obsessed with Pokémon as well. One day, my coworker swings by our work while I’m working, to drop some supplies off. As she and I are chatting, her daughter is running around the place playing “Go”.)

Me: “Did you pick up [Item]?”

Coworker: “Yeah, it’s on the back table.”

Daughter: *running up to us* “Mommy! I caught a Pidgy!”

Coworker: “You know, [Daughter], [My Name] plays Pokémon, too.”

Daughter: “We can play together!”

Me: “That’s okay, hun; I’m supposed to be working.”

Daughter: “Okay!” *runs off again*

(A few minutes later she runs up to us again.)

Daughter: “I just caught an Oddish!”

Me: “Exciting! Those are kind of uncommon.”

Daughter: “Yeah!”

(She runs off again, and we resume talking, and [Daughter] returns again in few minutes.)

Daughter: “I found a Jigglypuff!”

Me: *to coworker* “Excuse me; I’m gonna go catch this too…”

Coworker: *laughs*

Luck Is Not On The Syllabus

, , , , , | Learning | September 11, 2017

My second year of college, I was in a lecture-style class with about 90 students. Our professor was known to be extremely strict about late work. She blatantly refused to accept an email submission of any papers, and the only time she allowed us to turn in our printed papers late was if the university as a whole was shut down for some reason at the time the paper was due. (We were in Minnesota, so unexpected snow and winter weather closings were a thing).

One time, our professor ended up cancelling class the night before a major paper was due, because of some sort of minor emergency in her own life. I had another class in the same building right before her class, so since I already had my paper ready to hand in, I ended up leaving it in her office mailbox after my first class, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it for a few extra days.

The next class, when most of the other students tried to turn their papers in – our professor refused to accept them. Several students tried to complain to the department dean about it, but the dean pointed out the fact that, in our professor’s syllabus, she had written something like, “If I [Professor] am unable to hold class for any reason, and the university is open, all papers should be left either in my office mailbox or with the department secretary, to be collected by me when I return to campus.”

Moral of the story: pay attention to the syllabus that your professors print out for class! In my case, I was just extremely lucky, because I had only ever skimmed through the syllabus before this incident, but even I will acknowledge that luck can only get you so far.

The Best People To Be The Best Person With

, , , , , | Hopeless | September 10, 2017

My friend of 13 years was getting married. A few months before his wedding I came out as non-binary. I was my friend’s “best person,” and, knowing that weddings are very gendered, I told him and his fiancée that it was okay, I could still act “like a girl” for his events and their big day, and be referred to as such.

They said that it may not be necessary to do that, and they would do what they could so everyone, including me, would be happy and have a good time.

First, my friend asked which party I wanted to attend: the bachelor or bachelorette. He also listed me in the program and referred to me by the gender-neutral “best person” honorific, and his fiancée sent the tuxedo rental place information so they could get me a custom suit.

Finally, I sat down at the wedding dinner and saw that my place card said, “Mx.,” a neutral alternative to “Mr”. or “Ms.”!

I am still not out to everyone, due to family and work concerns, so being recognized in these ways, especially on their day, nearly made me cry.

This Is An Ugly That Surgery Can’t Fix

, , , , | Friendly | September 4, 2017

(I’m in a plastic surgery center, waiting to be called back. I’m flipping through a book, and the woman next to me keeps glancing at me.)

Woman: “Going for surgery, too?”

Me: “Hopefully.”

Woman: *nods to my chest* “Aren’t they big enough?”

Me: “That would be why I’m here: to make them smaller.”

Woman: “What does your husband think of that? He might not stay if you do that. Might leave you for a REAL woman. Maybe you should focus on that big tummy of yours first.”

Me: “My wife was actually the one to first suggest a reduction. So, are you here about that botched face-lift? Don’t worry; I’m sure they can fix it.”

(She stomped off, fuming. My wife returned from her coffee hunt and nearly spit it out with laughter when I told her.)

Genderalising The Work Force

, , , , | Working | August 30, 2017

(I am a new lawyer working on electronic discovery for litigation, with several other people. We are early to work and waiting for the manager to open the office; due to security, we can’t get in without that. The manager is a small young woman, and most of the team are men).

Coworker: *spots the manager coming in, but forgets her name* “Hey, it’s the… young female!”

Me: “Really? I’ve been right here the whole time!”

Coworker: “…I need to find a better way to say that…”

Page 4/7First...23456...Last
« Previous
Next »