(I have recently received a promotion and bonus, so I’ve decided to open a savings account at the bank where I currently hold a checking account. I’m talking to an account representative at the branch I’ve been using for three years. Because I do not drive I use a state-issued ID card in lieu of a driver’s license as identification.)

Me: “I’d like to open a savings account; I have $[total] to deposit initially.

Representative: “Great! Just fill out these papers and provide your driver’s license.”

(I hand her my ID card.)

Representative: “This isn’t a driver’s license. You need to have a driver’s license to open an account here.”

Me: “That is an official ID issued by the Commonwealth. It’s legally acceptable.”

Representative: “No, it has to be a driver’s license. I’m just asking for the same identification the teller would ask you for!”

Me: “No, the tellers are all aware that both of the ID cards are legally acceptable proof of identification. I don’t have a driver’s license as I cannot drive.”

Representative: “I’m sorry. If you don’t have a driver’s license you won’t be able to open an account today.”

Me: “Oh, well. In that case I’d like to close my account.”

Representative: “…close your account? But you haven’t opened one!”

Me: “Yes, as a matter of fact, I opened account [number] three years ago. However, since you’re no longer accepting my government-issued ID and I will no longer be able to cash my checks here, I’ll be closing that now.”

(I took everything to the bank across the street, and got a better interest rate on my brand-new savings account than I would have done at my former bank.)

(I’m trans*, and identify as male. For various reasons, I still sound female. My bank knows this and left a note on my account details, with my permission, explaining this should I ever have to turn up. This guy, however, took the cake. I’d had a couple of transactions show up oddly on the account, so I’ve been in touch with the fraud department to try and work out where they came from. We get the transactions sorted, and then this exchange happens:)

Fraud Guy: “So, [My Name], there’s still a few more issues with this account I’m not happy with. I’d like you to go into [Branch] with ID tomorrow to get it sorted out, if you can.”

Me: “Right. Why? I’m pretty sure I can explain everything else on the account. It was just those three charges.”

Fraud Guy: “I’m just not happy with these other charges, and I’d like you to go into [Branch] with ID to sort this out.”

Me: “Which ones, exactly?”

(He rattles off a bunch of standard transactions and at this point, I’m suspicious. But still, I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Me: “So, again, why do I need to go into [Branch], with ID, to sort this out? The branch knows who I am. H***, they’ve had to deal with me every time I needed to use the account when I didn’t have a card for it for a month. What’s the actual issue here?”

Fraud Guy: “Nothing. We just need you to go into branch with ID and—”

Me: “Because I sound female, right?”

Fraud Guy: “Well…”

Me: “If it’s because I sound female you might as well admit it, and get it over and done with.”

Fraud Guy: “Yes. It’s because you sound female. I’m not happy about…”

(This goes back and forth for another couple of minutes, until eventually he says he wants to speak to his supervisor. This is cool by me, as long as I can speak to the supervisor as well. He leaves and is gone no more than two minutes.)

Fraud Guy: “So, I’ve spoken to my supervisor, and they’ve seen a notice where your name’s been changed and I can see now where the issue was.”

Me: “Mmhmm.”

Fraud Guy: “And to prevent this ever happening again I’m going to leave a note on the account explaining all this…”

Me: “Like… the note that was already there, huh?”

Fraud Guy: “Well, it wasn’t very clear, so I’m just going to put another one in, and hopefully this will never happen again.”

(That notice was so hard to find that he went to speak to his supervisor, and the supervisor looked it up, showed him, spoke to him, and then he managed to come back to explain this all to me… within two minutes. There’s fraud prevention… and then there’s just ignoring everything you have sitting in front of you because the guy’s voice sounds a little strange!)

(I am a somewhat overweight, socially awkward guy. I don’t go clubbing too much because I don’t blend in well, but a lot of my friends club regularly. I am invited one night to accompany them to the most popular local club, where the crowd is mainly made up of popular, preppy college-kids who are unfortunately mostly smug and look down on anyone who isn’t ‘perfect.’ While my friends dance, I wander over to the bar to grab a drink. An attractive young bartender looks at me – the only person patiently waiting who hasn’t yet been served – but instead decides to ask every… single… other person at the bar if they want anything before she even looks at me again.)

Bartender: *hastily* “What do you want?”

Me: “How much would a cheap rum & coke cost me?”

Bartender: “Ugh. I could get you one with bottom-shelf rum with $3.50.”

Me: *trying to be friendly and easy-going* “Okay, I’ll have that. I’m not super picky when I go clubbing.”

(She rolls her eyes, makes me my drink, but doesn’t give it to me. Instead, she goes to the largest group nearby and again checks on them all repeatedly before she returns. She practically throws my drink at me.)

Bartender: *with a smug, sarcastic smile* “Oh, I’m soooo sorry, but I accidentally put in some of the more expensive rum into this. It’ll be $7. But if you can’t afford it, I suppose I could make you another one with the cheap stuff. You look like you probably can’t spend too much the way you’re dressed.”

(I was tight for cash. I only had about an extra $10 bill, some singles and some change with me so I could order a few drinks, but I didn’t want her to ‘win.’)

Me: “Oh, that’s fine. I’ll take that.”

(I hand her the $10 I have, and once again, rather than just giving me my change, she purposely goes to several other people first, making sure to glance at me with a smug look, before she finally gets me my change.)

Bartender: *nasty chuckle* “Here’s $3. I could get you a shot of the cheap stuff if that’s all you got left.”

(I took the money and waved her away. I then noticed that instead of handing me three $1 bills, she had accidentally handed me three $10 bills. Seeing an opportunity, I went back to my group, picked a very attractive female friend, and told her to ‘play along.’ You can imagine the bartender’s surprise when I ordered myself and my very attractive friend two rounds of expensive drinks, while my friend pretended to be enamored by me. After spending about $40 on drinks, I purposely left a spare penny I had for a tip.)

(I am a very short girl. I am breaking down boxes in the back room of the theatre, with a box cutter. I hear one of my coworkers talking to my manager behind the concessions stand and one of them makes a terrible joke.)

Me: *stepping out from the back* “Who just made that joke?”

Coworker: “It was me, I conf—” *he suddenly sees the box cutter* “I mean it was [Manager]! He just went upstairs. Go get him!”

(I cackled and went into the back room to finish breaking down boxes.)

(My manager is very easily angered, and the slightest thing will set him off. While helping him with lifting a heavy object, I accidentally drop my side, but no significant damage has occurred.)

Manager: “Godd***it, what did you do that for? You can’t just drop it like that! You’re like a bull in a china shop!”

(The last thing he said resonated with me really well. I am fully aware of the expression, but I happen to be Asian, so I decide to have fun with him.)

Me: “What the h*** do you mean, CHINA shop?”

Manager: *nervously* “It’s just a saying; I say that to everyone all the time! You’re like an angry bull in a… fancy store.”

(I kind of felt bad about pulling the “race card” at work like that, but he has been a lot nicer to everyone since!)