I worked at my parents’ business and got a call from someone speaking Spanish right off the bat.

Me: *Interrupting him.* “Sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”

Caller: *Switching to English, agitated.* “Why not?!”

Me: “I’m not a Spanish speaker.”

Caller: “No, I mean, why isn’t there anyone there who speaks Spanish?! The banks have Spanish speakers!”

Me: “This is my parents’ store, not a bank. Why don’t you speak Korean?”

Caller: “I’m not Korean!”

Me: “No, but the banks have Korean speakers…”

The caller actually chuckled, saw my point, and we were able to complete the call in English.

I’m waiting for my bus to work at the bus station. I see a coworker and start chatting with her. She’s Hispanic, so she’s helping me improve my Spanish. A nearby passenger takes offense to this.

Passenger: “Speak… English! This is America!”

Me: “Mind your own business.”

Passenger: “I’m trying, but you’re ruining everything by speaking that [racial slur] speak! America is English!”

Me: “The US has no official language. Also, this is Florida, dip-s***. Good luck telling people not to speak Spanish here.”

Passenger: “The President is gonna end people like you; you’ll see. You’ll be too scared to speak Spanish then.”

Me: “Hey, so you know ‘Mar A Lago’ is Spanish, right?”

My coworker and I were able to continue practising Spanish while the racist a**hole’s few brain cells fractured from the cognitive dissonance…

I work at a Levi’s outlet. A woman with a very thick Eastern European accent approaches me, holding up a pair of men’s jeans. She raises three fingers and speaks very carefully.

Customer: “Can I have these? Three legs?”

I stare at her in confusion.

Me: “You want jeans with three legs?”

Customer: “Yes! Three legs!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but all our jeans have two legs.”

Customer: “No, no, no! I want one…” *She takes one pair of jeans.* “Two…” *She takes another pair.* “Three!” She takes a third pair.

Me: “Oh! You want three pairs of pants?”

Customer: “Yes! This is what I try to say!”

Me: “I think you mixed up the words ‘pants’ and ‘legs.'”

Customer: “Pants, legs, they all the same!”

Later, I tell my coworker about the exchange.

Coworker: “No! They are absolutely not the same! If she’d said that to me, I’d have thought she had a three-legged son back home who really wanted authentic American Levi’s!”

I’m handing over to the front desk morning shift, and one of them is looking at the online bookings checking in later today.

Coworker: “I think this booking has the name of the guest and the pet reversed.”

Me: “What are the names?”

Coworker: “It has the name of the pet as John Smith, and the guest as Mr. CrankyPants.”

Me: “Well… considering some of the guests we’ve had in the past, I wouldn’t be too surprised…”

The next day I’m doing the same handover with the same coworker, and I ask about the guest.

Coworker: “The human was very pleasant, and he had a cat in a travel bag that was very vocal about his disapproval of the travel arrangements, so I’m gonna guess that I was right…”

We wear name tags while at work.

Customer: “Keesha?! What kind of name is that?!”

Me: “That’s more like a nickname.”

Customer: “It’s a bit… urban, for a pasty White girl like you, isn’t it?”

I pull out my original name tag that has my full legal name on it, which I keep in my pocket.

Me: “Well, actually my name is Caoimhseach.” *Pronounced ‘Kweev-sha’.* “But too many people thought that traditional Irish name didn’t suit a pasty White girl like me either, so here we are.”

Customer: *Walking away, glaring.* “Stupid made-up names…”

Aren’t all names made up?

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