I come across as a fat doddery simple-minded type. Clipping coupons and watching Hallmark movies… When younger, because I was a fashionista and had long long blonde hair, I was seen as an airhead bimbo, probably an easy lay…I am handicapped by a nasal little-girl voice, social anxiety, and hesitation when trying to speak my mind. So I am seen as dumb and uneducated…I have written short stories, won Trivial Pursuit countless times, have a vast vocabulary, and actually type better than talk. More than a couple of times, people have told me to my face that they are surprised I know as much as I do, or that my story was awesome and well researched, or that my bookshelves are covered by non-fiction and history, and not Harlequin romances.
How would you know that?
Only one of my four grandparents is Irish?
Oh I see, you’re only counting that generation. OK, I thought you were using a 23 and me type report.
I’m thinner than average, middle age white guy who prefers the company of his own thoughts, balding and have worn a greying scruff beard. Generally with resting bitchy face.
In 2008, as I was hiking in Georgia, I’d get dirty looks from people I passed on the trails, due to the overall similarity with This guy
Eeeek!
People would assume that I am not disabled. I look healthy, but I have MS among other things. I believe people think I’m anti-social, but really it just takes a lot of energy to get out and do things.
It’s almost an opposite thought, but when I am traveling, especially outside the US or western Europe, I try to be as anonymous as possible. No clothes with logos on them, in fact as generic as possible, no ‘designer’ brands. No camera. A shoulder bag, which no US man would be seen dead carrying 
Most often I get addressed in French first, for some reason? I reply in Welsh, which causes touts to withdraw in confusion!
Actually, kinda hot. (I have a perverse attraction to skinny guys)
They used to assume I was straight and be surprised that I’m gay (because I’m usually fairly feminine in appearance). These days I think most people assume I’m probably straight (mainly because it’s a reasonable starting point given numbers of gay people vs straight) but are less surprised when I mention my GF or she comes up and holds my hand or whatever.
It used to be that I’d get astonished looks, direct questions and so on, and these days it’s nothing, which is much better.
People also seem to think I’m cleverer than I really am. Nothing to do with the way I dress (I usually wear contacts out in public, so it’s not the old glasses-bookish stereotype) but I’m fairly alert-looking, I suppose?
Like someone won’t know how to do something at work or college and will look around the room and then plump on me as someone to ask 9 times out of ten (I don’t look especially friendly - have had frown lines since I was about 25). TBF most of the time I can help them, or, if not, will know I can’t help them, and might know where to send them for help, mainly because I’m so used to having to do this. But although I’m not dumb, I am not actually that smart, either.
This was not me, but my son. He lives in Boston. A woman came up to him at a bus stop and said to him that he’s gotta be Irish. He said something like “Lady, I’m 100% Ashkenazi Jewish on both sides.” “No”, she insisted, “You’ve gotta be at least partly Irish.” He couldn’t dissuade her and walked away. He is a blue-eyed blond, as was one of my grandfathers.
I wish that sort of lesbian too 
There’s one straight friend I have who came with me to a gay club once when I was visiting her and every single person assumed I was the ally.
Same.
My experience mirrors so much of what I’ve read here. Generally, I’m not often mistaken for something that I am not, but I am often able to “blend in” which can lead to amusing situations.
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Being accosted by an American tourist in Germany, guy was speaking German, asking how to get somewhere. I assured him my German language was extremely limited and I was also…from USA! Ah ok so…switched to English and carried on the conversation.
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People in Sweden assuming I’m Swedish. I guess I had the right haircut and glasses; this makes a big difference! There are times I can tell from the clothing where a person is (likely) from. Narrow, tiny glasses, short styled hair and spandex, on a couple of guys hiking in California? I guessed Germany and was correct.
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People in an electronics store thinking I worked there. I feel incredibly foolish when I go into one of these places (like Best Buy or Fry’s) wearing khaki pants and a polo, typically blue or red. For years this was my usual choice of clothes. It’s also what employees wear. Ooopsie.
Nah, I’m just an educated doofus with an amorphous American accent (apparently a mixture of northern and southern vocab), old enough to pass as a professor at the university where I’m a PhD student.
I mean, not really, I know ethnicity for sure as far back as all my great-great grandparents. Beyond that I don’t know anything about my paternal grandmother’s French-Canadian family.
Yes, my red hair, fair skin, and Irish name makes me game until I tell them that the red hair comes from the Slovenian side of the family. For some reason that stumps them. Yes, I have Irish heritage but quit connecting it to red hair.
Folks sometimes get the impression that I give a shit.
mmm
I get mis-gendered or mis-sexed a lot. As in, I’m born and raised male, but people take me for being female. I’ve got long hair, a smooth (or peachfuzz at best) face, glabrous skin and what would be “moobs” except for my lack of body hair. It’s happened a lot since I was in my 20s. Earlier in life, I found this distressing (it drew unwanted attention from straight men, while gay men–who I was interested in sexually, being one myself–hardly noticed me ever at all); now, it’s only tiresome and somewhat irritating, and very occasionally humorous.
I have to shop in the tall department. Some people think that “tall” is associated with being strong, and I will help them with heavy lifting.
Er, no. Tall means I’m also prone to back strains.
On the other hand, I’ll be happy to get that box of crackers off of the grocer’s top shelf for you.