“You can’t be that old!” Exclaimed whenever I get carded for cigarettes/alcohol. I’m 30, not sure how old I look but apparently it’s very young, tho I don’t agree. These comments bug me for a couple reasons: first, it’s none of your business, just give me my damn smokes &/or booze. Second, I’M NOT THAT OLD. God…I’m 30, not 90! Way to make me feel like crap!
“Smile!” I’m not a smiley person. I smile when there’s a reason to smile, or when something strikes me as funny, I don’t walk around with a big dopey grin on my face. For some reason this gets me singled out by strangers commanding me to Smile, which actually just makes me glower at them.
“God you’re quiet!” I am a shy person - once you get to know me (or get a couple drinks in me), you’ll find that this is not at all who I really am, but if I don’t know you I come off as very quiet. I know this. The way to get a quiet person to open up is NOT to corner them in the break room and bitch at them about how quiet they are!
In my experience, Asian Americans rarely ask each other where they are “from.” I tell another Asian American I’m from the north side of Chicago, they won’t ask any further. Other ethnic minorites do tend to be curious, though.
I don’t mind other people being interested in my ethnic background, but I resent it when people make assumptions concerning it (e.g., I am acquainted with other Koreans in Chicago, I have an undying love for kimchii, I am like that Korean girl they dated back in high school). Furthermore, if I answer the question “Where are you from?” with something that doesn’t reveal my ethnic background, it’s probably because I’m not particularly interested in talking about it with you (generic you). Keep in mind that the people I’m talking about aren’t friends, or friends of friends, or even people at a party, but people I run into smoking outside, or waiting at a bus stop, or run into at a bar.
“Your dog is starving. If you don’t feed him, he’ll DIE!!!” (Direct quote by the way)
OMG! He Is?! Thank you so much for telling me, I hadn’t noticed.
He’s a Saluki people. He is supposed to be skinny. Look it up.
This seems totally ureasonable to me because starving dogs don’t usually prance down the street in fancy silk collars, wagging their tails and greeting every person they meet.
What really cracks me up, though, is when I get these people who are oh-so-eager to prove how un-racist and progressive they are that they’ll launch into their spiel about how they’re color-blind, blah-blah-blah. I mean, *immediately * upon meeitng me, and totally unsolicited.
It is totally to :rolleyes: . It’s like, “Oh, cool, you’re righteous! Can I fuck your daughter?”
Try having the same last name as a very popular, but now deceased, newspaper reporter. AIUI the guy’s been dead since before my parents moved to this area while I was in boot camp. And we still get people asking if we’re related to him. Fifteen years is too bloody long for this question, people!
And the Jones all get together once a month, too, after all.
Ditto on all of these. Lucky I am even the same height as you!
I think we should get really roughy with these people. When we get done with the slapping with fish we should put their heads on a pike. People like that are really crappie.
Being named Mary, I’ve heard all the Mary-related jokes out there and then some. Here’s some of the (totally straight-faced) answers I’ve given back to them:
*I’ve eaten my little lamb.
*I grow Soylent Green in my garden.
*I dunno, why you finding me so buggin’?
My departed kitty, Jose, was a gorgeous long haired, pure white guy with ice blue eyes. He was polydactal. These cats are often deaf, an unfortunate genetic defect. Jose was not deaf.
Visitor: Cats like that are usually deaf. Is Jose?
Me: No, his hearing is just fine.
Visitor: Are you sure?
Me: Ummm, yeah. I’ve had him for 12 years. I’ve seen him creep under the bed on the 4th of July, and turn around to give me a dirty look when the words, “You’ve got mail!” interrupt him while napping.
Visitor: They’re usually deaf (said in a very superior tone. Silly me, I didn’t notice.) Are you sure he isn’t?
Me: Do me a favor and reach in the bag and pull out the cod.
I have some annoying, though not serious, medical problems.
Back surgery #1 (a year ago) “You’re too young for this!” Ah, the mantra begins.
Pelvic prolapse (will require surgical repair) ER doc, my GP, my OB, our nanny, my mom: “You’re too young for this!” I know. Thanks. Still need to get it fixed.
Back surgery #2 (10 days ago) Pain specialist, nurses in hospital, lady handling my pre-op paperwork, orderlies having to wheel me around on a gurney, chaplain, surgical nurse: “You’re too young for this.” At least my GP and surgeon let me be.
Thanks, great, I get it. I have the spine of someone twice my age. Or at least, that’s how you make me feel. THANKS. I feel grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreat! Way to help with the healing.
I actually heard it from three different people on the same day when I had my pre-op appointment. Then, while a nurse was wheeling me on the gurney to the various pre-op stations, I was chuckling and telling him how everyone keeps saying that–what else can I do but laugh? He said, “Yeah, you are a bit young to be dealing with this!” Then he wheels me to the next station, where before he left he overheard yet ANOTHER person said, “You’re too young for this!” He busted out laughing as well.
I had a Korean girlfriend once. We were at the bar but we happened to be standing apart somewhat and at that moment she appeared to be alone. A guy walked up to my girlfriend all cautious-like and said, “Do you… speak… English?” To which she replied, “Are you fucking serious?” Good times.
Tack me on, too. It’s amazing to me that people who seem to know next to nothing about Judaism feel confident about telling me what my ethnicity is and isn’t. Then they ask what my mom’s background is and confidently tell me that I can’t be Jewish, I must be Catholic.
That I was never baptized, never went to Sunday school, was never confirmed, and have been to a Catholic service TWICE IN MY LIFE (once to see a friend sing in the choir, once for my grandfather’s funeral) is apparently of no importance. I must be Catholic because my mom was raised Catholic (although she stopped practicing fourteen years before I was born).
Also, the next Bulgarian who tells me I have to get married to a nice Bulgarian boy and stay in Bulgaria for the rest of my life is DEFINITELY asking for a cod in the face.
