I did a short internship in the lab, at the hospital where my father worked. A man addressed me “excuse me, nurse” and promptly was verbally assaulted by two old ladies who pointed out that it was sexist to assume that since I was female I’d be a nurse and how did he know I was not a doctor and… after he managed to apologize his way out of the pileup, I explained that actually I was neither but an intern at the lab and how may I help you? Since all he needed was directions I was able to provide it.
Working in the US, in a long project for a Philly-based multinational, sometimes people would address me as “Debbie” and be very surprised when I claimed not to be Debbie. I was not a consultant (I was internal), I was not Finance stream (Operations), heck I wasn’t even American (Spanish)! Right now my accent is probably somewhere between Barcelona and Glasgow, but I understand that if I spend enough time in the US I do sound Midwestern. A few times my coworkers had to vouch for me or I needed to show ID.
One day after a meeting I was walking down a hallway and thought “huh, I’d never noticed a mirror he… wait a minute, I’m wearing jeans, I don’t even have a skirt like that!”
She’d been mistaken for me repeatedly as well, it was very nice to finally meet each other. We did like each other too She’s Black Irish, from Ohio, I’m a mixture of Basque and “international mongrel”, from northern Spain, but yeah there’s probably some common sailors up that family tree.
A childhood friend who’d had a huge crush on me got married. People congratulated me on our marriage for several years. While his wife an I do have “an air” (similar coloring and general pear shape), I’d like to point out that I’m taller, she has better hair and we’re in different weight classes
Back when I had to come with my parents to Walmart, I would hang out in the electronics section as they shopped (as that’s where the video game demos were). I’d get bored sometimes, and sometimes ask people who looked confused what they were looking for. So I did get mistaken for an employee (who apparently didn’t have to wear the vest), but it was my own fault.
Oh, because I always looked older than my age as a kid (even had facial hair in my eight grade pic). Hence the “Big” in BigT.
In white shorts and a striped shirt at the DisneyWorld parks in Orlando, I was mistaken for Disney staff… two days in a row (different shirts, but both gave off a Disney employee vibe, I guess).
During a tour of a historic landmark the guide bumped my party to the front of the line and gave us an extra set of tickets for another event. He kept telling me I looked “just like” a not very well known actress. We looked her up afterwards on imdb, and I could kind of see it, if I squinted. My aunt says he treated us well because he believed I was that actress incognito. (I think he treated us well because my aunt chatted with him nicely.)
I’ve been mistaken for family members more times than I can count. Apparently we all look like clones.
A crazy woman once approached me in a store and told me she knew I was Robert Urich. This was when he was still alive. When I denied it, she said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Urich, I won’t give your secret away.” On my best day I don’t look half as good as Robert Urich did.
When I was 13 or 14 I looked a lot older than I was. People who met me in the company of much older female relatives (upwards of 30 years older than me) often assumed I was the husband.
The first time I toured Europe and did some hitchhiking, I was several times picked up by a driver who thought I was a local resident who had missed his bus. I took that a an honorific. I try not to look and dress and equip myself like a typical backpacker.
When in grad school, just having a cigarette just outside a bar, the college kids going in started showing me their i.ds. Some were painfully bad fakes, so I told them to get the fuck out of here.
Strangers have mistaken me for members of their family.
As mentioned in the previous thread, I’ve been mistaken for a cop. At least twice while wearing my black military surplus raincoat and once while working front-end for a Giant Food store.
I was standing outside the store watching for any customers who could use my assistance. It was a damp & miserable day and I was wearing a store-issue bright yellow raincoat. This particular raincoat had a plain back rather than one with a large Giant logo so when a woman ran up behind me trying to report her friend being robbed up the block…
I had just finished serving as a bridesmaid in a wedding and was still wearing a pale pink sateen bridesmaid dress with white marabou trim (yeah, it WAS that bad), my hair was worn down and woven through a silver circlet, and I was wearing silver shoes. I had to stop and buy gas on my way home as my tank was nearly on fumes. As I was pumping my gas, a station wagon pulled up next to me with two small girls in the back. The window was open and I could hear one say to the other “Ohhhhh, there’s an angel!” I looked at their wide eyes and open mouths and gave them my biggest smile and a little wave.
I’ve been called many things in my life, but never an angel. That made my day.
I was in Buenos Aires for work and just wandering around the city to take photos and check it out. On more than one occasion people came up to me and tried to ask me questions in broken Spanish, until they realized I was American and happily switched to English.
I was mistaken for a little girl a few times when I was younger (I was a boy with sometimes longer hair).
One of which was by a drunk guy openly peeing in a campground. He fell all over himself to apologize to my Dad because his “daughter” had seen said drunk guy’s peenor. I just stood shocked at the whole episode.
^This, especially in a retail store. I seldom go in a store without a specific purpose. My stride and demeanor reflect the “man on a mission” look that some people interpret as being a manager.
I’ve been mistaken for The Boss a lot - sometimes even when my grandboss or his boss (CEO of the company) were standing next to me and taking part in the conversation. The first time that happened, I was kind of mortified, but great-grandboss just laughed and complimented me on my general air of competence. (I had only been working at that job, and in that industry, for about 6 weeks at the time.) 3 jobs later, the same thing happened, and the company owner got downright angry. I knew I was working for the wrong person at that point.
The summer I turned 13, I was flying out to visit a friend. On the second leg of my flight, I was seated next to 2 young-ish soldiers. We chatted through most of the trip, and one of the guys asked if I wanted to grab a drink during my layover in Kansas City. I told him that it would have to be milk and cookies for me, as I wasn’t yet in high school. He turned several shades of red, excused himself to use the facilities, and swapped seats with his buddy for the last half hour of the flight. Similar mistakes happened all through high school, usually college students assuming that I was several years older. (Now, with my youngest kids ages 4 and 6, I am sometimes asked whether I’m the grandmother. And to be fair, I am the oldest mom in the kindergartener’s class, and about the same age as the grandmother raising her grandchild.)
And I am often mistaken for a grocery store employee, regardless of what I’m wearing. Most memorably, in recent years: while dressed in a black suit and heels (grabbing milk and bread after a funeral,) and jeans, black hoodie, leather jacket, and wet hair in a ponytail. (Elderly man trying to find the items from his wife’s very specific grocery list. I just played along, because I remembered how my own Grandma behaved when Grandpa came home with the wrong items!)
I was mistaken by a minister of being my boyfriend’s mother. She was so embarrassed when she saw my reaction she tried to pass it off with “you know, like maybe through adoption…?”
I was only 35 and my boyfriend at the time was 25.
In high school, I was mistaken by a Jewish person I knew slightly for being Jewish myself. (I’ve been an Episcopalian since birth). I was bemused and asked him why he thought that. He sort of stammered and didn’t have a particular reason why.
She’s Black Irish, from Ohio, I’m a mixture of Basque and “international mongrel”, from northern Spain, but yeah there’s probably some common sailors up that family tree.