Me: “Hi, can I have a chicken bacon ranch salad with grilled chicken?”

Worker: “You want a salad?”

Me: “Yes. Chicken bacon ranch salad.”

Worker: “A bacon salad?”

Me: “Yes… a chicken bacon ranch salad.”

Worker: “You want a bacon chicken salad?”

Me: “Yes, a chicken bacon ranch salad with grilled chicken.”

Worker: “What kind of dressing?”

Me: “…ranch.”

Worker: “You wanted chicken on that? What kind?”

Me: “…grilled.”

Worker: “Okay… okay… ranch bacon salad with grilled chicken and ranch?”

Me: “Yes.”

(Luckily they got my order right…)

(I’m working at the front doors. There are a lot of people coming in and out, and I’m directing traffic as best as I can, but it’s a Friday night so there are a lot of people. Also note that I’m 4’11” / 1.49 meters. This happens over the walkie-talkie.)

Manager #1: “We need someone at the front doors at all times!”

Manager #2: “[My Name] should be there. You probably can’t see her because she’s so small!”

(I work in a very, very small non-profit. I’m having a meeting with a coworker.)

Coworker: “The finance committee can’t come up with a budget until the board supplies them with numbers, which they get from marketing.”

Me: “You do realize that you are all those groups?”

(I stay at a rental beach house with my boyfriend and his family, as well as a friend of his younger sister’s. My boyfriend, his two siblings, his sister’s friend, and I are all in the living room when the phone rings. We all just kind of look at each other, and assuming it’s a telemarketer, I eagerly get up to answer.)

Me: “Hello?”

(The telemarketer goes into his speech about long-distance service, not even asking if I’m the head of house or old enough to make that kind of decision.)

Me: “This is a beach house.”

Telemarketer: “Are you happy with your current long-distance service?”

Me: “We don’t have a phone.”

Telemarketer: “Uh… excuse me?”

Me: “We don’t have a phone. We don’t believe in phones. You see, we’re Mormon.”

Telemarketer: “What?”

Me: *click*

(Everyone had contained their laughter until I hung up. For the rest of the week, we made excuses about not doing things ‘because I’m Mormon.’)

(I am 23 years old and due to some complications when I was younger have hearing loss in my left ear. I do have a hearing aid but it occasionally cuts out if a noise is something that will harm my ear. My hearing aid is a BTE (Behind The Ear) model and i have my hair cut in a fashion to cover it. I have come to the liquor store to buy some drinks to mix for a party I am having. I approach with a cart that has various types of alcohol (about 20 bottles total). The cashier is an older woman who looks down at the cart then up and me and huffs.)

Cashier: *as I reach into the cart to grab the first few bottles to place on the counter* “I hope you have your ID, otherwise you are going to have to put all those back.”

Me: *I grab my ID and hand it to her* “Sorry, I should have got that out first.”

(I go back to grab the bottles. Note my ID is still the ‘underage vertical’ so bars can tell the difference quicker. But it is still valid for five more years.)

Cashier: *barely looking at the ID* “Sorry hun, looks like you are going to have to put it all back. Your ID says you are underage.”

Me: “Umm… If you look at my birthday you will see I am 23.”

Cashier: *she looks closer at my ID* “Still, your ID is invalid. You needed to get a new one after turning 21.”

Me: “It’s still valid until 2019. I do not need to renew it until then.” *I continue to unload my cart*

Cashier: “Fine, then.” *she starts to ring me up then says* “If you can pay for all this crap.”

Me: “I am sorry, did you say something?” *the beeping of the register caused my hearing aid to cut out*

Cashier: “Do you have enough money to pay for this? I don’t want to bag everything just to have to put it all back.”

Me: “Yes, I have enough; I have been saving up for it.”

Cashier: *continues to ring me up* “You shouldn’t be drinking this much alcohol, you know. It makes people stupid.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Cashier: “Alcohol makes people do stupid things.”

(I ignore her comments for the remainder of her ringing me up, and am not focused when she mentions the total.)

Me: “I am sorry could you repeat the total, please?”

Cashier: “I thought you said you had enough money.” *she says with a sly grin*

Me: “I do. I just didn’t hear you.”

Cashier: “Kids these days don’t listen to a thing people say. I said your total is [total].”

Me: *I open my wallet* “You said the total was [total]?”

Cashier: “Yes, gawd, are you deaf?”

Me: “Half actually.”

Cashier: *looking at me quizzically* “What did you say?”

Me: *flipping my hair behind my hearing aid, then grabbing the amount in cash out of my wallet* “I said that I am half deaf. You should be nicer to customers, and never assume anything based on age or appearance.”

Cashier: *deer in headlights look* “Here is your receipt…”