I have a coworker who speaks English well, but it’s not their first language. They can get similar-sounding words confused sometimes. I’m discussing some shift changes with him and another coworker:

Me: “Do you know why [Manager] decided to have so many of us on the opening shift?”

Coworker: “No, I don’t know. That’s above my gay parade.”

Me: “[Coworker]… are you trying to say pay grade?”

Coworker: *Stops to think.* “Yes, I think that makes more sense.”

Other Coworker: “Maybe [Manager] put us all on the opening shift so we can leave early for the gay parade!”

Now, whenever we’re confused by an upper management decision, we all agree it must be above our “gay parades”.

I’m aro/ace, meaning I have absolutely zero interest in sexual or romantic relationships and just have close friends that I treat like family. Of my two best friends, one is bi, and one is gay, so I end up at the gay bar my bi friend bartends at a lot to hang out with them.

I am female, and despite this bar being open to all genders, it is primarily frequented by gay men, so I stand out a little.

It’s a normal Saturday night, [Friend] and I are at the bar where friend [Bar Friend] is working. We’re trying out a new series of drinks he’s put together, themed after a TV show, and just generally talking. 

Two young men, maybe mid-twenties, enter the bar and immediately go up to my bartending friend.

Young Man #1: “Hey, we want to buy all the ladies a drink.”

Bar Friend: *Motions to me.* “Thar she be.”

Young Man #2: “Seriously? This place is packed. Where are all the other ladies?”

Bar Friend: “Uh, do you guys know what bar this is?”

Young Man #1: “[Bar’s Name]. My cousin told us it was the best place in town.”

Friend: “Did he perchance tell you it was a gay bar?”

Young Man #1: “Uh, no… But like, bi girls, that’s gay, right?” *Turns to me.* “Are you bi?”

Me: “Sorry, Aro/Ace, just here for my friends.”

Young Man #2: “Yeah, like, there are bi girls here, right?

Bar Friend: “Sorry, boys, but we normally just get gay guys. You might want to try [Other Bar] a few blocks down.”

Young Man #1: “So… no bi girls?”

Bar Friend: “Not tonight. Sorry.”

Young Man #2: *To me.* “And you’re definitely airy-aze or whatever?”

Me: “Last I checked.”

Young Man #1: “Oh. Uh. I guess we’ll try [Other Bar], then.” *Looking hopefully around like we might be hiding the bi girls under a table or something.*

Young Man #2: “No offense, man, we just got our tax returns and were gonna hit it big with the ladies. Y’know what I mean.”

Friend: “Yep. Sorry, just us gay guys here. And her.”

Me: “And me.” *Waves.*

Young Man #1: “But like, if any bi girls come in, will you send them to [Other Bar]? Tell them we’re buying drinks.”

Bar Friend: “Sure, guys, sure.”

Young Man #2: “Cool. Uh, bye… I guess.”

And out they wandered, confused, but with their hearts in the right place.

I come from a very progressive family. LGBTQ acceptance has never been viewed as controversial in any way, shape, or form. My aunt is an out-and-proud lesbian, and no one in the family has ever had a problem with that for the entirety of her life since she started dating.

Then one day she starts dating [Girlfriend]. Now [Girlfriend] is abusive and downright mean. She is mean to my aunt in front of us, she is mean to the little cousins, and she cussed out my grandmother. But any time anyone says anything back to her, she claims homophobia. Saying that we are ignorant and are against her because we can’t accept having a lesbian in the family.

Finally, one day, she goes too far and insults my grandfather (who has passed) to my grandmother. This obviously upsets Grandma, and she tells [girlfriend] that what she said isn’t okay. [Girlfriend] has her usual counter that this is all homophobia, and no one would have a problem if she were a man.

Grandma: “You misunderstood, we dislike you because you are a c**t, not because you have one.”

Related:
At This Rate Never Pick A Fight With Any Old Woman…, Part 3
At This Rate Never Pick A Fight With Any Old Woman…, Part 2
At This Rate Never Pick A Fight With Any Old Woman…

Reading this story reminded me of my encounter with that word in the workplace.

We’re in the back office doing weekly sales reports when my coworker starts narrating a spreadsheet that he’s going to present to a boardroom full of bigwigs. He’s asked me to be really nitpicky so that the presentation is impressive. He also has a habit of overusing the thesaurus to pepper his presentations with ‘fancier words’ to sound smarter.

Coworker: “So I only compared homologous items to keep the numbers clean.”

I glance at his screen.

Me: “Those are all the same SKU (Stock Keeping Unit).”

Coworker: “Yeah?”

Me: “So, those are homogeneous. Homologous would be comparable-but-different items.”

He frowns, visibly annoyed.

Coworker: “That’s basically the same thing.”

Me: “It’s not. One means ‘identical,’ the other means ‘structurally similar.'”

Our boss, who has been pretending not to listen while making coffee, looks up.

Boss: “I don’t know. They both sound identical and gay to me.”

My coworker and I look at him.

Me: “Why, [Boss], are you homophonic?”

He didn’t get it.

My girlfriend and I are both visibly trans, we also both often wear pride stuff, and I have some rainbow stickers on my car. We used to work at the gas station right by our house, so we know a ton of the locals from there, including most of the Domino’s drivers.

We were sitting on the porch when a car turned the corner, and as it passed our house, the driver leaned out the window and yelled “F*GS!” clear as day. I wish I had misheard him, but it was unmistakable.

I immediately jumped out of my seat and started screaming back:

Me: “Did you just call me a f*g, motherf***er?!”

He didn’t even look back towards us; he just ignored me. He pulled into the driveway two houses down and dropped off a pizza box. I was still yelling; he was still ignoring me. When he left, he went the opposite way so he wouldn’t have to pass us.

I was shaking with rage, so I took a few minutes to calm down, and we decided to go ask the neighbors about the guy. I didn’t know the lady who answered the door, but I’m friendly with her granddaughter. We apologized for interrupting their dinner and told her the driver had shouted homophobic slurs at us, and we wanted to know where they ordered from. Domino’s. Thanks!

Then we called Domino’s and said we just got a delivery to [Neighbors’ Address], and the driver was so nice, what was his name? Brandon? Great, tell him we said thank you!

Then I made an official complaint on the contact us form on the Domino’s website. I may have been a little dramatic about how this man obviously knows where I live and has made me feel unsafe at my own home.

Then I called the store back and asked for a manager. Told her what happened, and she got her boss on the line. They both sounded appropriately horrified and were very kind and apologetic. The big boss said Brandon was still out on a delivery, but that he would be reprimanded and sent home as soon as he returned. He assured me that he would be written up and suspended.

I think he handled it perfectly, and I was very grateful.

Me: “We order from you guys all the time, and we’ve never had an issue, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want your employees committing hate crimes on the clock.”

So, Brandon, enjoy your time off and watch your mouth!

Related:
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 13
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 12
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 11
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 10
A Hot Slice Of Justice, Part 9