dodge_this: I like the way you think. Personally I too am constantly looking for opportune moments to escape to the bar. Any bar.
I drive the customer shuttle for the service dep’t of a car dealer, and I get asked the same questions so often I’m think of getting the answers printed up on a card, so I can just hand it to the customer as soon as they get in the van and get it over with.
*Are you a mechanic? (Hell no. If I was I’d be in the shop fixing cars.)
*Are you in school? (Hell no. I couldn’t pay tuition! I make less money than the beat reporter for the Montreal Expos)
*How old are you? (26) Really? (Yes, really, dammit)
*What kind of van is this? ('96 Windstar) V-6? (Yup)
Not that these are bad questions, per se. I’ve just heard them so many times, I find myself struggling not to bust out and get buck.
This is a favorite one in interview-type situations. Any answer that is a variant on “I want to help people” is akin to asking what the third word ending in -gry is around here.
I’ll also have casual acquaintances ask me this shortly after hearing that I’m in med school. The implication is that I’m just doing it to make money. Uh, yeah, that’s why I’m extending my residency by two years so that I’m double-boarded in two of the five least-paying specialties (internal medicine and psychiatry).
Truth is, I don’t have a single, well-formed, easily articulable reason for wanting to be a doctor. I could probably give a hundred reasons. One friend suggested a response–“I like having a job where people get naked when I ask them to.”
If you’re going into surgery, try replying (dry husky voice) “Well, I like to work with knives…”
For nonsurgical fields, make up a fictional sibling who died during childhood and describe his or her pus-filled wounds until the listener turns green.
“Profoundly deaf” means no hearings aids, nothing at all - i can scream in their ear and they won’t hear me. All emergency vehicles here in the UK (and i presume in the US too) have flashing lights on for this very reason. When the vast majority of your sensory input is through the eyes, flashing lights are very obvious. Yes, there does have to be a certain amount of extra vigilence, but there are factors that make them better drivers than many people - they’re never distracted by the radio or phone.
“Do you work here?”
No, I get to work the cash regster because I’m the 1 millionth customer! Aren’t I special?
“Are you the manager?”
Well, its what my nametag says. And it’s why I have on this pretty blue shirt. But it depends…if you have bad things to say, please, direct your complaints to the non-English speaking guy taking out the trash.
“You’re not from Florida. You don’t have a tan.”
Yes, there ARE parts of Florida without beaches. And for the record, I lived there 3 years ago. 3 years without a sun is a surefire way to lose a tan.
“You two are sisters? You don’t look a thing alike! Are you sure?”
Damn, my mom must’ve been lying to us all these years, and we’re really not related after all. But thank you, due to your keen observation, our true idenities have been revealed. Thanx for ruining our whole family structure. Have a great day. (And BTW, me and my sister do look alike. We just don’t have the same hair color anymore, because we both decided to stray from brown. I’m now a blond, and she’s a redhead. But there definitely is a family resemblance.)
There are more, but those are the ones that come to mind.
"What are you taking pictures for? (Or “Why are you always taking pictures of everything?” or “Why are you taking pictures of THAT?”)
I’m taking pitures 'cause I’m a photographer. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. It’s how I respond to and make sense of the world. I’m sorry you can’t see anything beautiful or interesting it what I’m pointing my camera at. I’ll show you the picture I make of it, then maybe you will. That’s kind of the idea. In the mean time I’m kind of in the middle of something here…
The real problem is they’re never satified with that answer (or what ever version of it I come out with). I have to have some sort of concrete purpose or I’m some kind of nut. Fortunatly, I’ve just started doing photos for a weekly newspaper, so I can tell them that’s what I’m doing. They’ll probably be satified with that (yes, this interesting crack in the sidewalk has great news value :rolleyes:).
Being Asian attracts all kinds of ridiculous questions. My favorite is:
“How do you tell each other apart?”
These cretins don’t mean how do we tell each other apart individually, they mean how do you distinguish between different nationalities. These people never ask this question of Europeans. DUH - just like you can tell someone with a last name of Gorbachev is Russian, someone whose last name is Nguyen is Vietnamese. Also, just like someone who speaks French is likely to be French, a person speaking Korean just might be Korean. Jesus.
Other faves:
“When are you going back?” (It doesn’t occur to them that I am American)
“What are you?” (Uhhh…human?)
“Are you Chinese? Vietnamese? Thai? Filipino? Korean?” (Just ask my ethnicity - don’t guess. I am so tired of this that sometimes I just keep saying no until they guess correctly.)
“How do you feel about Pearl Harbor?” (I am of Japanese descent)
“Do Chinese people hate you?”
“What does your name mean?” (Do people ask this of any other ethnicity?)
I have a Slavic last name. It is not that hard to pronounce. There are really only two ways … oh hell, I’ll just tell you. My last name is “Bednarczuk.” Now, you can either go with the actual Slavic pronunciation of “Bed-nar-chuk” or with the Americanized “Bed-nar-zuk” (which is what my family has done). Is this really such a hard last name to pronounce? But invariably, people get a blank look on their faces and say, “Buh… buh…” SOUND IT OUT! That “cz” combination must really be confusing.
The worst is that now at the grocery store whenever I use my club card, they see my name on the receipt and the policy is to thank the customer by name, so EVERY damn time I go to the grocery store, I have to put up with, “Thank you, Ms. Buh… buh…” :rolleyes:
Coming a close second in annoyance are the people who ask, “Is that your name or did you marry it?” I cannot even put into words the many levels on which that question irritates me.
The other set of annoying questions I get are about how fast I can read. I can read pretty fast. Sometimes people notice this (when I bring a different paperback to work to read at lunch every day, or when I finish two novels during a 4-hour plane ride or whatever). Then I have to put up with a whole string of annoying questions. No, I did not take speed reading classes. Yes, I read every word. Yes, I can remember what I read. No, I don’t know why I can read so fast. Yes, I sure do read a lot of books. Please leave me alone now so I can get back to reading. Argh.
Now that I’m an adult I get less of the, “Wow, that’s a huge book you’re reading; isn’t it hard to read a book that huge?” type of question than I used to, which I am very, very grateful for.
I’m a psych major, and it isn’t so much the question of what’s my major that bothers me as the replies I get when I tell people. Invariably, it’s,“Psychology? You’re going to figure us all out?” Or “Now you can analyze your family!”
Ha ha ha! Never heard that one before! These weren’t even funny the first time I heard them, and I have a bad feeling they’re going to continue for a long, long time.
I also often get asked “Do you play basketball?” I’m 6’ tall for the record or near enough that it’s not enough to notice. I haven’t been asked that in awhile though for which I am grateful for.
I also get asked, after answering the question of ‘What do I do?’, “Why are you still in high school?” Like I’m gonna tell you that. :rolleyes: It’s my business what happened and why I didn’t graduate in 2000 like I was supposed to.
For some unknown reason, I am mistaken for an employee in every store I go to. This has been happening since I was barely old enough to work legally.
Typical conversation; “Can you tell me where the shoes are?”
Me - “No.”
Other Customer - “…”, blank look, walks off looking pissed at me.
Maybe I have a general air of “I don’t want to be here” about me that makes people mistake me for an employee. :rolleyes:
My last name is hard to understand over the phone – it has too many consonants together which just stuns people. I have spelled my last name over the phone officially **3,ooo,ooo times ** now. If I sound a little pissed when you ask me to spell my name, please understand that while it’s the first time you have asked me, you’re the 3 million and oneth person to ask me in my lifetime.
I’m right with you,MsWhatsit, on the reading questions. “Are you reading? What are you reading? Is it interesting? What’s it about?” Only question I want to hear when I’m reading is “Would you like me to shut up now so you can read in peace?”
I have a very unusual last name (it sounds–and is spelled–like something you drink). Nine times out of ten the response is, “Wow! Is that really your last name?”
Another question I get frequently concerns the birthmark on my left hand. It’s located on the back of my hand, and varies in color from pale pink to bright red depending on my mood and the room temperature. People typically take one look at it and say “Omigod, WHAT did you do to your hand?” or “Is that a rash?” I typically respond with “It’s a birthmark. Would you like to touch it?”
This did become a big issue when I was in the 3rd grade and my mom took me to a professional photographer for Christmas pictures. When the proofs came back, the photographer repeatedly asked my mom if she wanted the birthmark airbrushed out of the picture. (She didn’t.)
I know what you mean. I’m Eurasian but I look Chinese. People take one look at my last name - De Rozario, and they get all confused. Once we get past the “Wow, you speak pretty good English” I usually have to launch into a long Q&A about my ethnicity and heritage. Not that I really mind it. But it baffles me a bit. Is this just an Asian thing?
As a Georgian (pretty much) expatriate living in Arizona, I get two types of questions:
From people who don’t know I’m from Georgia: “You have an accent. Where are you from?”
From people who do know I’m from Georgia: “You don’t sound like you’re from the South. Where’s your accent?”
My last name goes along well with the job I do. (Advice from Strainger: Never enter a career where your name matches your job.) I’m constantly asked, “Hey, did you notice your last name really suits your job?” Yes. I’ve been reminded of this every day for the past 12 friggin’ years.
Catmarie
That’s true. It also involves the creation of four-assed monkeys.
I used to get that all the time too (6’2"ish). Rather annoying. Especially since I’m the exact opposite of a sporty person (don’t ask me why that makes it more annoying, it just does).
Right after I tell people my majors (Chem E and Philosophy) I get “Wow! those are on oppostite ends of the spectrum!” or “Those are pretty unrelated.”
I usually answer the short version “Not really, they both require thought.” or if I’m feeling less snippy “I needed the balance.”
For the record, I’m giving my complete answer here. Knowledge is not partitioned in my mind. Writing poetry does not limit my ability to do math. Reading and analyzing literature has never made me dumber in chemistry. I like all sorts of academic fields, if I had the money I’d have about 17 majors (Music, Psyc, Bio, Classics, Astronomy, British Lit…) But I don’t so I picked the two I liked best that I wouldn’t learn along they way by just running into them. So, go take your partitioned “I can’t write” or “I hate math” self out of my life. I’m not you, I don’t think or work like you. M’kay? Ahh I feel so much better.
On the deaf thing, my favorite chem partner was deaf (still is, I’ve just lost track of her) I took a friend of mine to lunch with her and as we were leaving he asked me “I thought she was the one who was deaf?” She’s really, really good at reading lips. She was also a blast at clubs, never had to lose my voice yelling and she taught me enough sign to gossip about people.
I get that sometimes. I studied Fine Arts in college. Now I work in Info Technology and Science. You can imagine the number of questions I get. When I tell them I like both subjects equal, I get curious stares. I usually fry their noodles further by revealing I intend on reading Classics at the open uni next year…
