I once won a Polish-American scholarship and attended a meeting in which I had to give a speech. Short bios of the other winners were printed in the meeting pamphlet and apparently were in the wrong order. I spoke first, and the first bio was of a native Pole who had come to America through some travails (I forget them exactly.)
For the rest of the meeting, people were coming up to me and trying to converse with me in Polish.
Every once in a while, someone assumes that I’m married. It’s even weirder if they’ve known me a while.
Exactly what I was going to say people think about me.
That used to happen to me all the time when I was younger, in all different stores. Something about me seemed to make people think I was working there.
Also, people would think I was Italian, even when they knew my last name, which is clearly not (I’m Jewish, actually). I suspect that was because there are a lot of Italians in Schenectady.
People would also hear my voice on the phone and think I was female. I used to sing the bass parts in high school chorus, so I don’t know where that was coming from.
As I got older, though, it stopped happening.
The last time this happened to me I was at an Italian restaurant but it made more sense because I was wearing the same color shirt as the person who was working there. People mistaking me for an employee, that is. No one has mistaken me for an Italian. The only time stuff like that’s happened is when people correctly ask me if I am German (1/2 German, 1/4 Polish, FWIW.) But sometimes they mean “German from Germany” and are surprised when I speak American English.
I feel for you. I use this name several other places on the internet, including an online card game. It’s always fun when a match starts and someone starts typing to me in Italian. I always patient reply to explain that I’m not Italian (nor do I speak the language) and that I took the name from a character in an anime. One guy once responded by asking if I was Japanese.
When I was in grad school, it turned out that one of the professors was convinced for years that I was Russian. One day in class she asked me where I was born, and I said “Pittsburgh.” That confused her.
One time I was washing dishes and a new person started with an accent that I correctly identified as Yugoslavian. At first I assumed that she was Serbian but it turned out she was Croatian. I’m glad that I didn’t let her know of my initial assumption!
Me too. It puzzled me at first, then it annoyed me, then it amused me. I ended up having a great deal of fun with it. I’d end up helping “my customers”, but in such increasingly absurd ways that they would eventually get it that I was having fun with their assumption. Great fun was had by all. Or at least by me.
People used to assume that I was stuck up. I guess it does resemble shy.
That happens to me all the time. I’ll comment on someone’s interesting accent, assuming it’s eastern European or something. They usually end up being from Massachusetts, Connecticut, or New York.
People have stopped me and asked for directions, in cities I’m visiting for the first time; and I have a sense of direction so bad that if I’ve got a strong feeling that I should make a left turn, 9 times out of 10 I’m better off if I disregard that and turn right.
I might be lost, I guess I just don’t* look* lost.
I’m currently in college, and every time I put forth even a little bit of interest or effort in something, people assume I’m studying it. My papers are well-written? I must be an English major. I take a non-required course in Java and actually understand it? I must be a CS major. I play guitar at an open mic night? I must go to Berklee School of Music. Don’t any of you dolts actually do anything in your spare time besides destroying your liver?
And when people find out that I’m actually a Math major, the first reaction is frequently “Oh, so you’re going to become a teacher.” Not a question, a statement. An incorrect statement.
I have two bumper stickers on the back of my car. One says “Blessed are the peacemakers” and has been there since 2006 or so, when I stuck it there in a fit of pique about George W. Bush. The other one says “Got wood for sheep?”
I’ve run into a few people who assumed that the “got wood for sheep?” one was a Biblical reference and that I’m therefore a big Bible thumper. Actually I’m an atheist with a sense of irony, and “got wood for sheep?” is a Settlers of Catan reference.
Maybe they’re picking up on the intensity of your convictions, but can’t tell what they are?
People often assume I have a college degree. No, I just read a lot, have a pretty well rounded knowledge base and a decent vocabulary.
I was in a bar fight in college. Well not really we just all went to the alley to yell at each other. One of the guys on the other side referred to me as karate guy. Where did that come from?
I’ve gotten this in Manhattan a bunch of times. The thing is, Manhattan is not all that hard to figure out. Let’s see, you’re trying to fing the corner of 5th and 34th? And we’re on 6th and 40th? How about one block that way, then turn right and go six blocks that way? If you see a really really tall building, you’ve found it.
That I know everything about computers. The fact that 9 times out of 10, I can fix whatever problem they have doesn’t help.
That I don’t or can’t swear. I dunno. People seem really surprised when I break out a good cuss word. It’s not even that I don’t swear very often! (Although I won’t swear around children, so the other day at home when I was super frustrated and felt like screaming and breaking things, I couldn’t because kids might hear. And they don’t need to be asking their parents ‘what’s a motherfucker and why is that lady downstairs yelling it?’)
That I’m Asian. I’ve only gotten this a couple of times. I’m vaguely yellow-ish, I like rice, and my eyes are vaguely almond shaped. As far as I know, no one in my family is from Asia.
I’ve gotten that in Manhattan, too, but it was on purpose as I wore a black overcoat and black cap so in this case I tried to be mistaken for a local.
The one time I visited Leeds, I was walking to the Royal Armoury from the train station and a guy in a truck pulled over to ask me directions. We both laughed when I told him I’d only ever been in the town for 20 minutes.