(I have a degenerating back problem that requires me to use either a cane or strong pain killers to get around. Sometimes I leave the cane in the car while shopping, and simply lean on the cart. My wife and I are getting dog food; she loads the bag into the cart when an employee approaches.)

Employee: “Sir, you should be ashamed of yourself. Why would you make your poor wife carry that big bag to the cart? If you weren’t so busy standing around, you could have loaded that for her. People like you make me sick.”

Us: “But sir—”

Employee: “She’s half your size. I can’t believe you would be so lazy.”

Us: “But sir—”

(The employee continues to rant. By luck, my physical therapist rounds the corner and notices me. He walks up and greets me, and then sees the big, heavy bag.)

Therapist: “Hey, you didn’t pick that up did you?”

My Wife: “No.”

Therapist: “Good. With your back, one wrong move with that bag would set us back weeks on your therapy. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”

(As he walks off, the employee says in a huff…)

Employee: “If you had a medical condition, why didn’t you just say so?!”

(After a minor cold, I have completely lost my voice, so I head to the campus Health Center before a three-day weekend. I get a throat culture to determine the cause, and am told to have a relative call the next day for the test results.)

Mom: “Hi! I’m calling for [my name] for her test results. Are they in yet?”

Nurse: “What’s the student ID number?”

Mom: “It’s [ID number].”

Nurse: “Okay, looks like she came in because her voice is missing? Test results came back this morning.”

Mom: “Terrific! What was it?”

Nurse: “Can’t tell you that.”

Mom: “You can’t? Why not?”

Nurse: “I can only give test results to the student. I need her permission to tell you.”

Mom: “I’m sorry; I thought the doctor said family members could call. I’m her mom and—”

Nurse: “I need her permission.”

Mom: “Okay, well I don’t know how you’re going to get it. She’s not at school; she’s here at home.”

Nurse: “Just put her on the phone and she can tell me it’s fine.”

Mom: “Um no, she can’t. She needs the test results because her VOICE IS MISSING.”

Nurse: “Just put her on the phone.”

Mom: “HER VOICE IS GONE. She CAN’T talk to you. Why can’t you just tell me?”

Nurse: “You could be anyone. I don’t know if you’re really her mom.”

Mom: “So some random lady found her ID number, and is using it to call for her TEST RESULTS?”

Nurse: “Exactly. We need proof.”

Mom: “You’ve got to be kidding me. You know what? Here she is.”

(She passes the phone to me. I scream as loud as I can that my mother has permission, but all that comes out is a strangled sounding breath. My mom takes the phone back.)

Nurse: “What the h*** was THAT?!”

Mom: “That was my daughter, attempting to give you permission even though her voice is missing. That work for you?”

Nurse: “FINE. The test was negative for Strep throat.”

Mom: “…That’s it? That’s all you tested for?”

Nurse: “Yes.”

Mom: “SERIOUSLY? THAT’S what you couldn’t tell me?!”

Nurse: “Yes. Tell her to get better.” *click*

(Thankfully, my voice came back a few days later. My mom fumed for the whole weekend, and we never did find out what caused it!)

(On the way to the train station to head home, I stop by a kiosk to grab a bite. Note: In Holland it’s quite uncommon for the person behind the counter to look at you, let alone make small talk.)

Cashier: *merrily* “So how are you today miss?”

Me: “I’m great, thanks! How much are these sausage rolls?”

Cashier: “Hmm, the sausage rolls! Good choice! They’re 1,70 ma’am.”

Me: “I’ll have one, then.”

Cashier: “So, where is the trip heading today?”

(I tell him my destination.)

Cashier: “Ah, going to see the dolphin park there, then?”

Me: “Haha, no I live there. I used to work at that park, though.”

Cashier: “Oh, really? Hey, you don’t happen to know [name], right? He also lives in [town].”

Me: “No, I’m sorry; I don’t know anyone by that name. Anyway, I gotta catch my train! Have a nice day!”

Cashier: “You, too ma’am! Have a good ride home!”

(About a week later, I stop by the kiosk again, and see the same guy behind the counter. This time the place is packed, but he greets every costumer with a huge smile and makes small talk with everyone. )

Me: “Just these two today, please.”

(I place a chocolate bar and a pack of gum on the counter.)

Cashier: “Ah, something to snack on the way, heh?” *checks me out*

Me: “Hey, just a question, are you always this happy?”

Cashier: “Oh there are so many reasons to be happy! Look, the sun is shining, and I have a JOB! How many people can say that these days? I consider myself lucky! I mean, I get paid for making coffee for people all day. How can I not be happy with that?”

Me: “Wow, you are really thankful for what you have! You don’t see that so often anymore. And your happiness makes me happy too! Just so you know, you made my day!”

Cashier: “Haha, well, I’m happy I make you happy!”

Me: “We’re making each other happy!”

Cashier: “H*** yeah!”

Me: “Well, gotta catch my train again. You stay happy now!”

Cashier: “I sure will!”

(I sometimes help my coworker design ads for our newspaper. She rarely expresses appreciation for the help and loves to point out any mistakes she thinks I’ve made, no matter how small.)


Coworker: “This ad is wrong.”

Me: “Oh? What’s wrong with it?”

Coworker: “The text looks bad. There’s something wrong with it. I don’t like it.”

Me: “Actually, this ad is one YOU created a month ago. All I did was resize it and grayscale it.”

Coworker: *stares at ad for 10 seconds* “Oh, you know what? Never mind, this looks good!”

(I am a gay woman, working in a hotel, supervising staff. Two honeymooning women walk into the hotel.)

Honeymooner #1: “Hello, we have reservations for our room…”

(She lists the information for the room.)

Receptionist: “But that’s a one-bed room. Should I change that to a two-bed?”

Honeymooner #2: “No, there’ll be no need.”

Receptionist: “Don’t be silly. I’ll get you a two-bed.”

Honeymooner #1: “We’re on our honeymoon.”

Receptionist: “No need to lie. It’s no trouble.”

Me: “What’s wrong?”

Honeymooner #2: “We really don’t need another bed. We just got married.”

Receptionist: “They’re just being silly. I’ll get them another room.”

Me: “I think they’re telling the truth.”

Receptionist: “No, they can’t be. Two women can’t get married.”

Me: “I’m married and I’m a lesbian.”

Receptionist: “You’re not being serious, are you?!”

Me: “No, and you’ve met my wife!”

(I ended up having to explain a lot to the receptionist. And she still didn’t understand, even after meeting my wife!)