(I work in a fast food restaurant that brings food out to the customers instead of having them wait at the counter. I am out cleaning off tables when I see a family taking funny pictures with a mom and her son when this happens:)
Son: *looks behind at me, and mouths* “Help me!”
(I am a bisexual woman. This has never been a problem, as I live in a very accepting community and my family is great about it. However, my coming out was rather funny. Note: my dad and I are extreme morning people, while my mom is most decidedly not and requires her coffee before she is remotely functional.)
Dad: “So, you’re bisexual?”
Me: “Yup. Is that a problem?”
Dad: “Of course not. Just keep in mind that the rules for dates still apply, whether you date a man or a woman.”
Me: “I know!”
(My mom walks in. It is approximately 6:15 in the morning, and she has had no caffeine.)
Mom: *grunts*
Me: “Good morning to you, too!”
Dad: “[My Name], don’t you think you should tell your mom what you just told me?”
Me: “Mom, I’m bisexual.”
Mom: *grunts, drinks coffee*
Me: “Okay, then.”
(One hour later:)
Mom: “Hey, honey, what did you try to tell me earlier? I can’t remember.”
Me: “I’m bisexual.”
Mom: “Oh, you are? Good! I was worried there for a second!”
Me: “Why?”
Mom: “I thought you said you were in a sex pool!”
(Yes, this conversation really happened, and yes, this is a common occurrence. I just generally don’t say anything important before she’s had her coffee, anymore.)
This story is part of the bisexual-themed roundup!
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(My professor has asked for the class’s opinions of the textbooks we read from this semester. Most people weren’t fans of [Book #1]. Note that students typically sell their books in an informal used book exchange at the end of the semester.)
Student #1: “[Book #1] was a bit dry.”
Student #2: “And the chapters dragged on. It could have been more concise in getting to its point.”
Student #3: “Yeah, it wasn’t difficult to read, just time consuming.”
Student #4: “I’d prefer if we’d only had to read [Book #2].”
Student #5: “But please use [Book #1] again next year so that we can sell our copies to the next class!”
(The class laughed.)
(I grew up in the DOS era — pre-Windows — and started programming with GW-BASIC when I was maybe twelve. As a jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none hobbyist, I moved through QBasic, making video games for myself, then in college through Visual Basic and C++, as well as HTML, SQL, the text-adventure engine Squiffy, and game engines like RPG Maker, Game Maker, and Unreal Engine. As a lark, I learned ROM hacking enough to alter text and graphics in classic video games, and even, one summer, tried to learn Assembly Language. I was a programming tutor in college, and, after seeing the same problems crop up repeatedly, created a “Common Errors in Visual Basic” hand-out that got passed around by professors for a while. Now that I have nephews and nieces — six so far, ages 11-19 — I’ve been trying for several years now to get them interested enough in programming to actually work at it on their own steam, rather than by my prompting. I’ve gotten them to make little tiny starts on Game Maker, and two of them went to a robotics class that they really enjoyed. Now I’ve got a niece, age 11, and nephew, almost 14, working on Khan Academy’s “Hour of Code,” which teaches them the basics. My niece must have taken well to this activity, given that she just sits down next to me, as she is getting ready for bed, and offers up this cheerfully energetic advice:)
Niece: “You should learn how to code.”
Me: “…”
(My boyfriend has recently won a fairly prestigious contest for a short story he wrote. As a result, the organization running the contest needs a picture of him for publicity purposes. In spite of being a very lovely person, my boyfriend has what can only be described as “resting b**** face” and doesn’t smile much, to the point that he often has to reassure people who have just met him that he doesn’t dislike them, but that’s just the set of his face. He also absolutely hates pictures of himself.)
Me: “Umm… Okay, just stand by the those trees, I guess.”
Boyfriend: “Okay.”
Me: *snapping a few photos that honestly aren’t terribly good* “Erm… Here, let me try this.”
(I hold my camera way above my head, as my boyfriend is more than a foot taller than I am. This is an improvement, but the photos are still “meh” at best.)
Me: “You know, you could try to smile.”
Boyfriend: “No.” *tries to look even more serious*
Me: “Yeah, yeah, because you’ve got to look like a harda**, even when you’re accepting an award!”
(He starts to laugh, and I manage to snap a photo of it.)
Me: “HA! I did it! I got a picture of you smiling!”
Boyfriend: “D*** it.”
(That was the picture he sent off, and one of the better ones I’ve managed to take of him!)
