Oh, so Delta Force or Seal Team Six…your secret is safe with us…
I have very long hair, usually butt-length unless I’ve had a trim. Occasionally people will tug on my braid while saying something inane like. “Wow, your hair is long! How long did it take to grow?” The tug gets a death glare, the question a shrug, and possibly the answer that I don’t really know, I’ve had hair this long since 9th grade (and I’m over 50 now.) The next comment is always about Locks of Love, and have I heard of it, and I should cut my hair and donate it.
When I worked as a riding teacher and trainer (horses, that is), without fail I either got the story of how they were the only one that could ride the wild stallion at the barn when they were a kid, or how the one time they went on a trail ride/rode a friend’s horse the horse went crazy, ran away and bucked them off. The first story usually means that they rode a horse that trotted off with them, scared them silly but they stayed on and got it stopped. The second story means that they rode a horse that trotted off quickly with them, they lost their balance and fell off. I just smile and say “Oh my.”
When I’m out of state, I always meet the Most Obnoxious Asshole who asks me questions:
MOA: So, where are y’all (just me) from?
Me: West Virginia
MOA: Well, West by God Virginia!!! I have an uncle that lives in Norfolk, do you know him?
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Norfolk is in Virginia. West Virginia has been a separate state since 1863. Maybe it is time to update the set of Encyclopedia Brittanicas at home?
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Even if it was in West Virginia, I don’t know everyone in the entire state. Do you know every person that lives in your home state?
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Yes, I do sleep with my cousin. I had to get some loving somewhere after I threw your sister out. I was desperate and nobody else would sleep with me after she gave me the clap.
On hearing that I’m from Alaska:
“Can you see Russia from there?” (the answer is ‘yes’, by the way)
“What do you think of Sarah Palin?” (she should have been strangled at birth)
“Were you there during the earthquake?” (meaning the 1964 quake, and yes)
“Why did you retire to Oregon?” (for the sunshine, hookers and blow)
I also get the “Do you know Tom Smith?” questions. Alaska has an area of about 600,000 square miles, so it’s unlikely.
I don’t understand why retail cashiers ask this. It’s insane. I’ve gone to managers and told them that it might be a good idea to train cashiers not to ask questions like that.
My thing is making bows and arrow from natural materials, we call it primitive archery. I always get this thing about a friend or relative who is really into archery and they have one of those compound bows that are really powerful. I am supposed o be impressed, I always tell them we call that type of bow training wheels. And then I get this thing " Will you make me one?" I say sure, will you paint my house or over haul the engine on my truck, or replace my plumbing, dumb asses!
Here’s a nice namesake for you, famous in Sheffield. A very nice man 
I work for a fire alarm company, and spend most of my workday testing fire alarms. Hardly a day goes by when someone says to me, “Why do you have to make so much noise. It is really annoying!”
Upon hearing his accent when he speaks English, people invariably ask my husband, “Where are you from?” He hates this question. He knows that people are just trying to make polite conversation but it irrationally annoys him. So if he knows he’ll never see them again, he usually invents some story, claiming to be from Andorra or the Faroe Islands or something like that.
One of my pet peeves - being asked a question and then told I’m lying because they don’t like the answer! One of my sisters is so bad about this I no longer respond to her questions - she’s going to ignore my response anyway. :rolleyes:
Me too! It’s so stupid, why ask if you don’t want the person to tell you? I get quite snippy if/when that happens.
When I was home on leave from working in Afghanistan and Iraq people always asked me what I ate there.
Prep South for me! And Ted Drews and Crestwood Mall…
I have a rather large mustache. I use wax in it to keep it manageable, but don’t keep it completely horizontal with a spiral curl at the end, it hangs down and curls out slightly at the end. (Look up Wyatt Earp to see the style). I had no idea how “approachable” this thing has made me… The normal questions:
How do you eat with that thing? (“Very carefully and as you can see, I don’t miss many meals”).
Why don’t you wax it and make handle bars? (“I DO wax it and I don’t like handle bars”).
Why don’t you shave that thing off? (I usually ask them why they don’t get a nose job).
Doesn’t it tickle? (“Doesn’t tickle me at all, but you can ask my wife”).
And from people I know but haven’t seen in several years, Why did you grow it? And the honest answer is I don’t know, it just happened and now I’m used to it.
I develop web sites for a living so much like the photographer at the beginning of this thread, my job is always easily matched by the tinkering of a a nephew.
I also get a lot of “oh can you make my business a web site?” inquiries, which I don’t entertain, because I’ve learned over the past 20 years that small jobs are not worth my time. It’s worth the time of many many healthy Web development businesses but not my particular business. So, like, ask your nephew. He’s good.
Also I have very curly hair and people are always asking me if I want to straighten it. I do not.
My stock answer to the ubiquitous question, “How are you doing?” is, “Better than I deserve.” I am utterly serious in this answer, because it happens to be the truth. This point is not opinion, and it is not a proper subject for debate. Very few people “get it”, but they are the ones I enjoy meeting. Less so the ones who reply with, “Oh, we all deserve better than we get/have,” or the like.
I’ve been using this answer for a very long time now, and have encountered exactly two people who asked with apparent sincerity, “Why would you say that?” or “Would you explain that?” That can lead to a good conversation.
Much more annoying is to be in conversation with someone who can’t finish a complete thought, but often interjects with, “…you know what I mean?” I have from time to time replied, “No, I don’t have a clue what you mean. Would you help me to understand?” This is seldom well-received.
One Southernism I had to drop when I moved to Chicago was the response to “Where you going?” “Hell, if I don’t change my ways.” Started many a lecture.
A Filipino friend of mine hates “What are you?” I’ve seen her mistaken for damn near every race on the planet outside of white.
Dave Ramsey, is that you?
Regards,
Shodan
I usually get asked, “Can you reach me that thing up there on the high shelf?”
When I meet new people, I try to ask them intelligent questions about their job or hometown, to show that I know what they are talking about, and that I’m not lumping them in with the stereotypes. From the posts in this thread, I guess I should stop. No reason I should risk pissing someone off, so I think I’ll just nod and grunt from now on.
I got that one from my first husband, a Kentuckian. He never stopped saying it and never got anything but a laugh after moving to Ohio. (Sometimes a rueful laugh.)
"How much does this cost? (I know the price of very few items. Let me scan it).
Do you take American Express? (I point to the sign on the register in front of the customer’s face and say “No.”)
Do you have any more of these in the back (I always want to say “We’re here to sell stuff. That’s why we hide it.” I usually call the aisle worker who says “What we have is out.”)