I am thirty and I just decided to start going to college. For what I want to do, I need so many math classes. In my class, the oldest person is the teacher, who told us she’s eighty, and then me. Everyone else is between seventeen and nineteen.

I’m sitting at my table with three of these teens. They’re all talking. One boy looks at me and says something and is really excited about it. He asks a question. I stare at him blankly.

Me: “Fo shizzle my nizzle?”

Boy #2: *Confused pause* “What?”

Me: “I have no idea what you are saying and it’s the only hip thing I know!”

Boy #2: “Hip…?”

Even though this incident had me briefly worried, I really love it in retrospect simply because of what it meant about the young man involved. His heart was in the right place, and I have to say, he had a good world view.

I’m in the hospital for what the doctor tells me is major surgery. As often happens in these hospital jaunts, I meet the entire staff of people who will be attending my operation.

Just before surgery, the anesthesiologist and his — rather new and green and eager — assistant come in to bid me a good day. They are in masks, scrubs, and caps.

Anesthesiologist: “Hi, [My Name]. My name is [Anesthesiologist] and this is my assistant, [Assistant]. We will be taking care of the anesthesia for you this morning.”

We chat, and I ask questions. [Assistant] desperately wants to prove to the two of us that he knows what is going on and makes a couple of comments that are really gauche and a little stupid, but since it has nothing to do with anesthesia or surgery, I am not concerned. His boss occasionally rolls his eyes, and he tells me, “He really knows his stuff but he’s a little awkward socially,” when [Assistant] leaves the room.

I’m not concerned; I trust my doctor, the anesthesiologist has been very reassuring, and I figure it’s a little late to turn back now.

The surgery goes fine and I wake up a few hours later. Eventually, two handsome young men walk into my room.

Anesthesiologist: “Hi, [My Name]! Do you remember us?”

Me: “I sure do.” *Pointing* “You’re [Anesthesiologist] and you’re [Assistant].”

Anesthesiologist: “Wow. You’re really sharp. You remembered our names!”

Assistant: *In awe* “And, hey. She got us right, too. You couldn’t even see us when we first met. We were in masks! She was still able to tell us apart!”

[Anesthesiologist] and I look at each other and [Anesthesiologist] cheerfully smacks [Assistant] in the shoulder.

Anesthesiologist: *To me* “Tell him how you could tell us apart! Go on. Tell him.”

[Assistant] looks at me expectantly.

Me: “I could tell you apart because [Anesthesiologist] is black and you are not.”

[Assistant] stares at us for a few minutes as if just noticing that he and his mentor look nothing alike, even down to the fact that [Anesthesiologist] is small and compact and [Assistant] is tall and lanky.

It is the cutest moment ever. And I just love the fact that [Assistant] never considered it. When I speak with my doctor later, I mention the incident. She bursts out laughing.

Doctor: “Yeah, [Assistant]’s a little ditzy, but I have to say we should all have his world view.”

In college in the late 1980s, I had my own private phone line set up in my dorm room. However, I guess the number was close to a couple of others because I kept getting phone calls for Mark, Rick, and Mike.

They were always on my answering machine, but that meant they weren’t actually listening to my message because it was, “Hello, you’ve reached [My Name] at [Phone Number]. I’m sorry I’m not here…”

I eventually got tired of the wrong numbers and changed my message:

“Hello, you’ve reached [My Name] at [Phone Number]. This isn’t Mark. This isn’t Rick. And I’m sorry, Melissa, but this isn’t Mike. If you wish to speak to one of them, please hang up and dial again. If you wish to leave a message for [My Name], please do so after the tone.”

Melissa called. It seems she had finally paid attention to the outgoing message, as she left me one, and I could hear her trying to keep from laughing the entire time.

“I’m sorry, [My Name]. I didn’t realize I had been leaving all those wrong messages. Maybe one of these days, I’ll get on out to California and I can finally meet the wrong number.”

However, finals week was upon us, so I changed my answering machine message to indicate that I was going to always be studying, so people should leave a message and maybe I’d get back to them sometime.

Melissa called again. It seemed she liked being called out on someone’s answering machine and I guess she called so she could show it to someone. Again, she was trying to keep it together on the phone:

“[My Name]! It’s Melissa. What happened? Don’t you love me anymore?”

I think I still have that cassette tape somewhere.

After divorcing her first husband, my aunt starts dating a man 22 years older than her; she is in her thirties. They are at a store, and she enters the checkout line without him. He then walks up while the cashier is ringing her purchases up, and he adds a pack of gum to her items. The cashier looks at her for confirmation, and she says it is okay.

Then, this transpires. It is important to note that at no time does either of them use the other’s name.

The cashier gives a total.

Husband: “I’ll get it.”

He gets his wallet out.

Aunt: “That’s okay; I’ll pay.”

Husband: “Please, let me pay.”

Aunt: “No, I’ve got it.”

Husband: “I insist.”

Aunt: “Okay.”

He pays. As he’s getting his change…

Husband: “Now that I’ve paid for your purchase, will you tell me your name?”

She responded by saying his name, quite loudly.

(I work in a large store that sells a lot of things, including miniature frogs by the counter. All of the frogs are male. One customer is looking at them and another is checking out.)

Customer #1: “Oh, look, two of them are hugging!”

Me: “Yeah, they do that sometimes, even though they’re all male.”

Customer #2: “Oh, they’re just confused.” *her tone then turns disapproving* “You know they’re allowed to get married now?”

(She is clearly talking about same-sex marriage and it is evident she is against it. There is an awkward pause in which nobody really knows what to say.)

Me: “Oh, I didn’t know frogs could get married.”

(The woman then grumbled a bit, finished paying, and left with an unhappy expression on her face.)

This story is part of the Pride Month 2023 roundup!

Read the next Pride Month 2023 roundup story!

Read the Pride Month 2023 roundup!