It is 2018. I am working concessions at a movie theater. I’m stationed at the popcorn, which is the first thing you encounter at this theater. A man walks into the concession stand area but he stays back as he’s talking on the phone. I smile and give him a nod to show that I see him and am ready to help him whenever he’s ready. He doesn’t acknowledge me and continues talking for about five minutes before a woman walks up that wants popcorn. She waits a moment to see if he’s going to order but he keeps talking on the phone.

Me: “Sir, I just want to make sure whether or not you’re ready before I help this next customer?”

He doesn’t respond, just kind of turns to the side and continues his conversation. The woman and I shrug, and I go about helping her. She is very pleasant and nice to chat with. She has barely finished walking away when this man steps up and smacks the counter before starting to rant at me.

Customer: “Are you kidding me?! I’ve been standing there for more than five minutes and you help her before me?”

This man is a white male and the woman is black. It’s important because the way he said “her” was as if he was referring to some disgusting being.

Me: “Sir, I apologize if there was some confusion, but you didn’t seem ready to order. When you first approached my area, I smiled at you and nodded to acknowledge you since you were on the phone. I stood here for at least five minutes while you stood back and continued your phone conversation. Not once did you try to order or even indicate you were ready!”

Customer: “Well, I was here first!”

Me: “I understand, sir. That’s why when the other customer came up, I asked you if you were ready. You chose not to respond and turned away from me, so I had no choice but to help the waiting customer. I’m sorry you feel that was unfair but I’m not going to make another customer wait just because you chose to ignore me. Now, would you like to order some popcorn?”

He huffs and puffs for a few seconds before ordering a large popcorn. About ten minutes later, he returns, one of my managers following behind looking exhausted. As they approach the popcorn station, this man proclaims:

Customer: “That’s her! That’s the girl that was discriminating against me!”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Customer: “She saw my shirt and discriminated against me!”

He is wearing a jacket that is zipped more than halfway up and I have no idea what shirt he is wearing. I turn to my manager.

Me: “I haven’t seen his shirt. His jacket was zipped like that the whole time; you can check the cameras.”

Manager: *To the customer* “Why do you think she was discriminating against you based on your shirt?”

He yanks the zipper down to reveal a homemade shirt emblazoned with:

Shirt: “TRUMP 2020! F*** THE LIBTARDS!”

Me: *Remaining stone-faced* “Sir, this is the first time I’ve been able to see your shirt. I really don’t care what you wear; have a great day.”

I told my manager I was taking my lunch break and walked in the back as the customer continued to rant about how “YOU F****** LIBERALS JUST WANT TO CENSOR EVERYONE! F*** YOU, LIBERAL B****!”

He was escorted out, without a refund, by security!

It is 2010. I work as an enumerator for the US Census Bureau. My job is to go to residences that have not responded to the mail-in form and get the requested information. Besides using the information for congressional district assignments, the demographic information is used by governments to determine if schools need to be built for upcoming students, if new roads need to be built, etc.

At this time in the US, the “Tea Party” movement is going strong. They are a group of ultra-conservatives that are for smaller government and less government spending. We’ve been warned in our training that “Tea Party” members are reluctant to give any personal information, even though personal data collected by the US Census isn’t publicly released until seventy-five years have passed.

I approach one house where the pickup truck out front is adorned with several US flags. I brace for what I (correctly) assume is a “Tea Party” member. I ring the doorbell and am brusquely greeted by a man.

Me: “Hello. I’m [My Name] with the US Census office. I’m here to collect the data on your household, as we didn’t receive your form by the deadline. Do you have time today to answer some questions about your household?”

Resident: “You only need to know the number of people here. It’s five.”

Me: “Actually, sir, the information is shared with state and local governments to make sure the proper level of services are available to you and your family in the upcoming years, so the demographic data is very important.”

Resident: “Can I see what you’re going to ask?”

I show him the form that I’m going to be filling out. For this census, it is very basic: name, date of birth, ethnic identity (of the person’s choice), marriage status, and maybe a couple of other things. He grudgingly lets me interview him and get his data.

Me: “Thank you very much for your time, sir. Have a good evening.”

Resident: “By the way, how long has the government been doing this census thing?”

Me: “Well… since 1790.”

My family is Canadian, but my brother moved to the States for work and has an American girlfriend. Everyone in the family likes her very much, but she sometimes gives the impression that she’s worried about fitting in and getting along with us.

It’s a couple of days after the 2021 Canadian federal election. I’m on a video call with my brother, and I tell him a joke. His girlfriend hears him laughing and comes in.

Girlfriend: “What’s so funny?”

Me: “Oh, just a stupid joke about the election.”

Girlfriend: “Oh? Can I hear it?”

Brother: “It’s, uh, very Canadian. I don’t know if you’d think it was funny.”

Girlfriend: “Oh, come on. I wanna hear it! I bet it’s great!”

Me: “Um, okay. What’s the difference between [Politician] and a toilet?”

Girlfriend: “I don’t know.”

Me: “A toilet has a seat.”

Girlfriend: “I… Oh. Um.”

Me: “Because, uh, [Politician] is a real scumbag and he’s a party leader, but he didn’t get elected in his riding, so he doesn’t have a seat in the House of Commons.”

[Girlfriend] is wearing the expression of someone desperately pretending that she both understands and cares.

Me: “Anyway, it’s a very silly joke. How are you, [Girlfriend]?”

I hope my brother later told her she doesn’t have to pretend to care about Canadian politics to impress anyone, since if she’s not interested, I can’t think of a bigger waste of her time.

Related:
O, Canaduh, Part 12
O, Canaduh, Part 11
O, Canaduh, Part 10
O, Canaduh, Part 9
O, Canaduh, Part 8

This takes place around the 2008 election. I am in high school and one of my classmates is trying to get our teacher off topic.

Classmate: “Who are you voting for?”

Teacher: “We’re not discussing this.”

Classmate: “Are you a republican or democrat?”

Teacher: “Moving on, [Classmate].”

Classmate: “Okay, okay. On a completely different topic. Which animal do you prefer? Elephants or donkeys?”

This story reminded me of when I renewed my driver’s license twenty-plus years ago. After I completed the eye test and filled everything out:

DMV Employee: “You are listed as an Independent. Per Florida laws, you cannot vote in the coming primary election as an Independent. Do you want to update this?”

I didn’t know a lot about politics, so I asked:

Me: “What side is our current president?”

The employee told me.

Me: “Oh, okay!”

The employee looked really happy. I then marked the opposite party and stated:

Me: “I feel the exact opposite.”

Unlike the story I mentioned, my information did not get updated and I was unable to vote in that primary. I got my ID updated later on and still think of the DMV worker when I vote for either side.

Related:
“Party” and “DMV” Are Complete Opposites