Don’t Make Me Up To Be Racist

, , , , | Working | December 31, 2017

(I have been getting my makeup done at a department store, by an employee of who is desperate to sell me pretty much half her stall. I have been sat for about half an hour.)

Me: “How much longer is this going to take?”

Employee: “Just a couple more minutes.”

(Fifteen minutes later:)

Employee: “And… done!”

(She hands me a mirror.)

Me: “Umm…”

Employee: “Good, huh? The foundation and blush are £50 each for the 250ml containers, and—”

Me: “You made me look like Bob the Drag Queen.”

Employee: “I don’t know who that is, but if you like it, sure.”

Me: “Well, she’s a drag queen, and she’s black.”

Employee: “Is she pretty?”

Me: “Yes, but you’ve literally given me blackface.”

Employee: “But she’s pretty, which means you’re pretty!”

Me: “I’d like you to remove it, please. I’m not going anywhere with blackface.”

Employee: “I will if you agree to buy the products I used on you today.”

Me: “Agree to buy something that makes me look racist? Not on your life.”

(I ran off and bought some makeup wipes. I must have used about half removing everything she put on me. As I left she tried to alert security to my “stealing,” but the guard just rolled his eyes. I’m assuming I’m not the first incident.)

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The Solution Is As Clear As Glass

, , , | Healthy | December 29, 2017

(I need to get new spectacles, so I get assessed. During the sight test, the optometrist notices I have the start of macular degeneration in one eye, tells me it isn’t serious at the moment, but warns me to watch out for lines appearing wavy when they should be straight. She gives me a leaflet to put on my fridge door, so that I’ll look at it several times a day and be aware of the need to check. She also instructs me to come straight back for another test if anything changes. This all freaks me out a bit because I’ve never heard of macular degeneration, so I dutifully put the leaflet on my fridge door and inspect that thing every time I go in the fridge, for about a month. I start noticing the sight in my left eye is quite blurry. So, off I trot back to the optometrist. I explain everything to the receptionist, then the optometrist, a different one to my first visit. He sight-checks me then leaves the room for a few minutes. He comes back in and asks if I mind him checking again. I don’t mind, but by now I’m sweating and my imagination’s working overtime. He does the same tests and asks me to explain again what the problem is.)

Me: “Look. I cover up my right eye…” *demonstrates* “… and you’re blurry. I cover up my left eye instead…” *demonstrates* “… and you’re not blurry.”

Optometrist: “Well, Mrs [My Name], both sight tests we’ve conducted today show no changes to the other test we did recently.”

Me: “Seriously? But I’ve definitely got strange vision in my left eye? How is that, if the test results are the same? Look, doctor, if it’s psychosomatic, tell me. If you think I’m dreaming it up because I’m so worried about losing my sight and I need a psychiatrist, just tell me straight. I really can handle it.”

(By this time, I’m near tears. I don’t know whether I’m losing my sight or my marbles.)

Optometrist: “Show me again.”

(Demonstrates covering up the eyes, etc.)

Optometrist: “I… might be a bit off course here but… did we provide your glasses?”

Me: “Of course, yes.”

Optometrist: “It looks like the common denominator is your glasses. Let’s get them realigned and see.”

(Aaaand I felt a fool. Mind you, so should they, too. My ‘demonstrations’ of blurry vs normal sight were done wearing my specs. The sight tests had been done WITHOUT my specs. It turned out there was a minuscule adjustment needed for the left lens. He brought my specs back and the blurred vision was gone. At least I know I haven’t lost my marbles yet. Not about that, at least.)

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Has No Idea What Is On The A-Gender

, , , , , | Learning | December 29, 2017

I am in a college English Language class, but for some reason a substitute teacher has decided to bring in some strange gender theory that means nothing to our coursework, exam prep, or subject. She has conducted an experiment with three groups: one of all girls, one of all boys, and one of a roughly equal mix.

Unfortunately, for whatever theories she is trying to demonstrate, she says this as we are entering the classroom, and consequently we all sit in the groups she requested with no difficulty… by sitting in the seats we always sat in. One table now consists of all girls who have been a friendship group since they were eleven, one is all boys who mostly form up the college football team and their close friends, and the third table, mine, is a group of mixed gender people who usually annoy our regular teacher by goofing off for most of the lessons and yet still turning in technically perfect assignments. At once, we see that whatever this new person is trying to prove is doomed to fail.

The sub then announces that we are to build the tallest house of cards we can in twenty minutes; her wording, however, is that she will measure from the table to the top card, not that she will measure the number of tiers or how many cards are used. Her second mistake.

The third mistake is to then attempt to use this twenty minutes to do something else which involves leaving the room. She sets a timer and leaves. The all-girl table immediately sets to work trying to make a house of cards, finding that the table is too smooth and the cards too slippery to get much resistance. The all-boy table decides that they have already lost and it is much more important to talk about other things and mess around. And my mixed table also decides we have things that really need doing: mostly discussing who is the biggest diva between a guy and a girl who accidentally came in with the same handbag. But in the final few minutes, we do have the presence of mind to haul a few chairs onto the table, stick a bottle of water on top, then balance the whole pack of cards on the bottle, thus creating what is by far the greatest distance between table and highest card.

At the teacher’s return, she attempts to argue that it is gender that dictates the fact that the girl group tried, the boy group didn’t, and the mixed group cheated. Never did find out what point she was trying to make, but we did all fail our next exam, regardless of gender, as a third of the material was never covered with us.

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When Your Entitlement Gets You Shut Down

, , , , | Right | December 29, 2017

(It’s my last shift at a fast food restaurant before I leave and move to university. My shift ends at the same time we close, which is three minutes away. As it’s so late, I’m the only one serving the drive-through. The customer I’m currently serving has decided to change her order while at the window. Another car comes up to the speaker and I ask them to wait while muting my headphones. Once my current customer drives off, I turn it back on.)

Customer: “…and [Meal] with fries and large [Drink].”

Me: “I’m sorry; I was helping another customer. Could you please start over?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “It’s not my problem if you don’t care about your customers. I’m not repeating myself.”

Me: “Okay, I apologise for my lack of multitasking. Have a nice night.”

(I turn off the headphones and check the clock. My shift is now over, so I do a final clean up. While cleaning, I notice a car outside the window.)

Me: *opening the window* “Sorry, but we are now—”

Customer: “You lazy b****, take my order now!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you said you weren’t going to repeat yourself, so assumed you didn’t want to order now. As I said, we are now closed.” *closes the window while she screams at me*

(I go to collect my stuff from the break room, and come out while my manager speaks to the customer who is still at the window.)

Manager: “You don’t seem to be getting it. I can’t fire her.”

Customer: “WHY THE F*** NOT?!”

Manager: “Because she has literally just finished her last shift. She no longer works here.”

Customer: “Oh, well, can I order now?”

Manager: “No.” *closes the window*

(We both laughed while the customer continued to scream. I said goodbye to everyone and sprinted to my car in case the customer saw me. The morning after, I got a text message from the manager who also ended up opening. The customer came back and demanded I be fired. He again said that I wasn’t working there anymore, after which the customer demanded free food, because she was upset she didn’t get her way. Words were said, and he doesn’t think she’ll be coming back anytime soon.)

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Drag Race: Civil War

, , , , , , | Learning | December 29, 2017

(It’s the last week of class before the December exam period, and I’m in an American history seminar of final year undergraduates. We’re all at the point of the year where deadlines are hitting and we’re all cracking a little. Our professor is doing his best to keep us on topic.)

Professor: “Okay, so what exactly would have motivated Union soldiers to steal women’s dresses? Remember, it’s okay to give the obvious answers; just keep the discussion going.”

(A long pause.)

Classmate: “Well, how popular were drag shows?”

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