People Share The Time They Were Given Condescending Advice Based On A Dead Wrong Assumption

It’s easy to make assumptions based on what you see. You look out the window and it’s sunny and the birds are chirping, so you assume it’s warm outside. You see a shabbily-dressed man walk to his beater truck, so you assume he’s poor. These are normal things to think, but it gets dangerous when we believe what we see to be the truth and make our next move according to what we think – like doling out advice. Just because he doesn’t look rich, doesn’t mean he isn’t and any unwarranted advice about his looks and education could come across as rude, intolerant and just downright foolish; especially if he turns out to be a rich farmer and finds out where you live.

Save yourself the embarrassment and read the following stories about people who were quick to give out condescending advice based on a wrong assumption.

29. When A Professional Doesn’t Act Professionally

“I had recently received my bachelor’s in history and I needed some experience working in schools to be accepted into the master’s program I wanted.

My husband is a Native Alaskan so we decided to move to the village he was from for a year.

I could work in the school there and we could decide if we liked the winter there or not. We were young and still deciding where we wanted to eventually put down roots.

I was hired as a paraprofessional. I had several different small hour jobs in the school that was cobbled together to make about a 5 hour day, which suited me fine because I needed a well-rounded experience.

The headteacher of the school didn’t work with me on a daily basis but he was in charge of signing my timesheet and paperwork. Unfortunately, he looked down on the villagers. He must not have read and/or remembered my application because he made it clear that he assumed I was just one of the poor, uneducated people who lived in the village (even though many people in the village were not poor or uneducated).

He always talked down to me and acted like he was doing me a big favor to give me the time of day.

At one point, he pulled me into the office and very slowly explained that he was supposed to inform me that if I wanted to work on some basic college courses, I could see the counselor and the school district would reimburse me. He explained that he is supposed to inform everyone on the staff of how much it would help our future. This was said with a lot of sighing and eye-rolling like he never would expect me to do anything like that.

I looked at him weird and explained that I already graduated college and was applying to a master’s program for that fall.

All the teachers I worked with on a daily basis knew this, one of whom was his wife, so I had assumed he knew. He perked up and asked what college. I told him the UW and through chatting with him, I explained both my parents were alumni and my father graduated from law school there. He was shocked that my father was a lawyer.

The worst part was that he treated me totally differently after that. He treated me with respect but I lost all respect for him. He chose to work in a small village in Alaska. He should have treated everyone in the town with respect if he was going to work there. By going to college and having a lawyer for a father should not have made a difference in how he treated me.

I still see him as an example of how not to behave.” Sara

28. He Treated Me Like A Dummy So I Acted Like One And Then Walked Out

“I love cars. I like taking my time and really analyzing every aspect of them when I decide to buy. Normally I spend a lot of time just looking and considering my options and inspecting them inside and out. My brothers taught me all about cars, but my father taught me to have a sense of humor. After I decided on the car I wanted I went inside and a Salesman approached. He asked if I spoke English because “we don’t speak middle-eastern here.” He said. Speak Middle Eastern? I thought amusingly. I was seated at his desk.

We made idle conversation and he told me about his family, his college-aged daughter, etc. When I told him the car I was interested in the looks confused and bewildered. He then tells me how powerful and expensive that car is and then suggests a used car to me. No problem.

I just played along. He then leads me outside to the Pre-owned section. He shows me a gray car and suggests it may be more gentle on my pocketbook. I look at the car and get inside. The seat is pushed completely back and will not go forward. The seating tracks were obviously in need of repair. He then says “Oh, that’s the way it’s made.” I asked, “Like this?” I couldn’t even reach the steering wheel or brakes.

He replied yes. You can just put a pillow underneath you. So I told him no thanks and walked back inside.

By this time I was just playing with him and had absolutely NO intention of buying from him. We sit once again and he tells me that I should really consider that small, gray car he showed me. I insist upon a gold Jaguar I had seen. We go back out and I spend a VERY long time inspecting that car. He was getting so mad and I was enjoying every minute of it. Finally, I am done and we go inside. He starts to talk about financing and percentages, upkeep, insurance, mileage, gas and how expensive it would be blah, blah, blah.

Then he pushes a calculator towards me and says- this is a calculator. Do you know how to use one? Not to brag, but I am a math wiz. I can do complex calculations in my head. I already knew exactly what the costs would be. Now I was totally insulted. Still, I play along. I had him “show” me how to use this mysterious object in front of me. I asked what each button was for and how come there is paper coming out of this thing? I saw the + and – signs, then I asked incredulously: Where is the question mark? His expression was priceless. Nevertheless, we proceed with an abundance of paperwork, my negotiating, his running back and forth to the Manager’s office which I made sure he did at least 5 times.

When finally all the paperwork was complete, I had him go over it all again to “make sure I understood all those big words”. I said. Now all that was needed was my signature to seal the deal. He slides the paperwork to me. I looked him in the eye and said-You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I will not spend my money here. I know what a calculator is, I am very well-educated, multi-lingual and I can obviously afford this car (as I then had cash in hand), and I am too intelligent to buy from you. I pointed towards the door and said, “That’s a door and I’m walking out of it.”  Sometimes you just have to beat ignorant people at their own game.” Yahsahme

27. Don’t Tell A Cook How To Cook

“This is rather silly and actually became a family joke when I told my daughters.

I was taught by my mom and grandmother (an incredible home cook) to cook at a rather young age. This came in handy because my mom became ill when I was 12, and for the next 8 years, I was pretty much the chief cook in our household and could make a fairly large repertoire of delicious foods, and cook as well as my grandmother by the time I was 20.

When I was 27, I was teaching elementary school with a woman who was just too full of herself. She was in her 40s and seemed to think that because I was her junior, and a divorced mom of two (the horror!) I needed her constant, unsolicited advice. What made matters worse is that her husband was the school principal, so I couldn’t just politely tell her to shove it when she over-explained the simplest of things to me.

At the close of the school year, it was decided that the faculty and staff would have an end-of-the-school-year cook-out the evening of the last day of school. This was just for faculty and staff to celebrate the end of a successful year of working together (Huge eye-roll- because there’s nothing more “fun” to me than hiring an evening sitter and going back to work in the evening to have dinner with my co-workers that I’ve just spent the past 10 months seeing every day! )

The principal would be grilling hamburgers and hotdogs, and the faculty and staff were assigned a covered dish to bring. I was ordered to bring baked beans by my know-it-all co-worker. I was happy about this because 1.

it was an easy dish and 2. my baked beans have always been well-complimented at other cook-outs, so I felt confident in making them for a group. The thing that cracked me up was that when she ordered me to make them she proceeded to tell me, “Now, Ari, when you make baked beans, you don’t just open the can and heat it up. You add ketchup and mustard to them first.” I told her that I thought I understood and then proceeded to make my normal homemade baked beans which are NOT from a can and are deliciously sweet, spicy, savory, and tangy. They were a huge hit!

Now, anytime I say to one of my daughters that I’m going to make baked beans, they remind me to “open the can and add ketchup and mustard!” Yum! Ari

26. Call Me A Little Lady Even Though I Know What I’m Doing? I’ll Walk Right On Out

“Several years ago when I was still with my ex he was making a small wall at the edge of his mother’s lawn so no one would have to mow down the hill again.

He was using a saw with a blade designed to be used with concrete. As you can imagine, the blade got dull pretty quickly. So he gave me the money and told me to go down to the closest hardware store and buy a couple of new blades. He wanted me to hurry so he could get the wall finished that day. So I drove down to the closest store. I went in and asked where the saw blades were. The man at the counter came around to show me where the blades were and asked me what I needed. I replied that I needed a blade for concrete. He said that no, I didn’t. What I needed was a wood blade.

I said NO. I was specifically told to get a blade for concrete. Then he said, Now Little Lady, you know that what you really need is a wood-saw blade. Why would a nice Little Lady like you need a concrete blade? Here are the wood blades. What size wood blade do you really need? I stood there, absolutely dumbfounded, for a few seconds. Then he patted my hand and again called me a Little Lady. I jerked my hand away and stalked out of the store.

Soooo, I still needed a CONCRETE blade, so I drove to another hardware store. I walked in and asked for a concrete saw blade and was promptly shown to the correct aisle. The store clerk asked what size blade I needed and I handed him the paper my ex had given me.

The clerk got what I needed and was very courteous and rang up the sale and I left. I was still fuming when I got back to the house. My ex was ticked because I had been gone so long and asked me what had taken so long. So I told him. He laughed until he cried. He asked me if that idiot had any skin left or had I flayed it all off him when I told him off. After a few minutes, I was able to laugh at the situation. But to this day it still rankles. Little Lady!?! Please! I’d rather be a Ma’am than a Little Lady. Do NOT condescend to me and assume that I am too stupid to know what I need.

I may be a lot of things, but I definitely am NOT a Little Lady!” Victoria

25. I Can’t Park Here, This Is For Physicians Only? Read My Badge

“It was my first day at a new hospital. I pulled into the lot and parked in a spot reserved for physicians. I was a bit early, so I called my BFF, who is also an OB-Gyn and I was laughing and chatting with her when I hear an angry knock on my window.

I turn to see a white male, in his late 50s to early 60s with his face twisted in anger. I roll down my window and he begins shouting “You can’t park here! This is for physicians only!”

So I grab my badge, that’s on a stretch string and I place it about 1cm from his face and say “I think this gives me permission to park here, dude!”

No apologies.

He just turns on his heels and walks away.

Yes. Black women can be physicians too.

I’m 40 years old (at that time), so old enough to be a doc.
I’m driving a late model Volvo.
I have a sticker for physician cars on my windshield (he didn’t look).
I had on scrubs.
I was wearing a badge that said doctor which I showed him.
I was minding my own business, obviously on a phone call.
The lot wasn’t full. So he had space.
He wasn’t assigned to police the parking lot
I was a privileged doctor on this hospital campus, he was a “guest” without full privileges.
He rudely interrupted my call, frightened me, he was wrong in his assumption and never apologized.” val

24. Don’t Assume You Know Better Until You Actually KNOW Better

“I am from New Caledonia. This is a small French territory in the South Pacific.

Think Tahiti but bigger and more diverse geographically and ethnically. So France sends us their finest to educate our thick dense and lazy brains. One day, while back on vacation, I invited my mother to the Phare Amedee (Amedee Lighthouse which is a traditional day trip).

On the boat along with us locals and the Japanese tourists was this “metro”, stands for “metropolitain” (straight from the motherland) and his family. He was obnoxious, loud outright condescending and disrespectful to us locals. This went on for a while and the Tahitians on board got so fed up they started playing the guitar to cover his rant.

So, i struck up a conversation with the dude. In my thickest local accent possible, i proceeded to compliment the dude on how smart he sounded and that he probably went to good schools.

He took the bait and to my amazement, he went to third rate mediocre university, had a stinky patchy resume that calls a trash bin home but harbored nonetheless that proud arrogant French overconfidence. He concluded with: “I guess you have no idea of what I am talking about, do you? You probably never even finished high school. You know you should try and study in the metropole. It would broaden your mind. Have you ever gone out of this island?”

Without missing a beat, i proceeded to unpack my resume “comedia dell’ arte” style, again in the dumbest sounding local dialect. I intentionally sounded dumb and uneducated when I told him about French “Grandes Ecoles”, Japanese university, post-grad at Sorbonne, US CPA, and blah blah blah.

The delivery of the professional resume was even funnier. I really looked and sounded like a stupid and ignorant clown with the cherry on the cake dropped: strategist with HSBC on the Tokyo Stock Exchange. Hilarity ensued!

The Tahitians dropped the guitar and all the locals were openly laughing their a***s off at the face of this guy looking sunburnt with shame. Even the crew and the other “metros” laughed at him. He had vastly underestimated us locals and got owned like a cheap third-hand car. He proceeded to lift his entire clan and sit down at the corner, right by the noisy engine room for the rest of the trip. More importantly, it made my mother proud for a change.” Laurent

23. He Told Me Everything There Is To Know About Publishing A Book Without Ever Having Published One

“I’m a nurse and I’ve never worked a single day when I didn’t learn something interesting or useful from a patient.

But that doesn’t mean patients always know better than me. I am also the author of 3 traditionally-published books. Not self-published, although there’s no shame in taking that route. But actual novels that had to pass the standards of an agent’s screener, an agent, and multiple editors and publishers at a well-known publishing house in order to see print. All of those people had to say, yes, this is an author who knows how to write a book that can sell. So while I’m not Nora Roberts, it’s safe to say I know a thing or two about writing a publishable novel.

Enter Patient X, a 50-something gentleman who came in for a knee replacement and ended up in my care. As we were chatting, he frequently referenced the books he had written.

“Oh,” I said, pleased to have discovered a kindred spirit, “are you a writer?”

Yes, he had written a novel.

“I’m a writer too-” I began…but got no further.

Patient X launched into a marathon explanation that began, “If you want to get published, here’s whatcha have to do…” He went on and on about querying agents and formatting manuscripts. About knowing your market and The Only Right Way to Develop Characters. He was one of those people who talk with their eyes closed- presumably looking inward for inspiration as their wit and rhetoric flow-and not once did he pause long enough for me to comment.

When he had exhausted either his expertise or his energy and lapsed into silence, I said, “Wow, that’s so interesting! How many books have you had published?”

He answered without the slightest hiccup in confidence.

“Well, I haven’t actually had anything published yet, but I know I will someday.”

*Crickets chirping*

And then I said, “Well, thank you for sharing your insights. I wish you all the best with that dream of seeing your books on the shelf someday.”

And I do wish him well. He never asked, so I never told him.” Carre

22. Tell Me To Not Forget Who I Am? Yeah Ok

“I had recently graduated from Brigham Young University in Hawaii with three majors and my “gift” to myself wasn’t the usual “tour of Europe” as many upper-middle-class kids would do, but I opted for a three-month tour of the South Pacific.

A girlfriend of mine from Utah asked if she could tag along as she was interested in seeing the Kingdom of Tonga as her grandfather was a Mormon missionary there.

Our first stop was Tahiti, and we arrive in the wee hours on Sunday morning. My Tahitian friends picked us up and arranged for us to stay with some of their relatives outside of Papeete. (These relatives knew NO English and I sure as h**l didn’t know any French at the time, but that story is for another day.)

Eventually, we were taken in by another family nearby because the wife saw us at church and could speak a little English.

Next thing you know, we are going everywhere with this family!

Now, at the time there were a number of Salt Lake City Mormons in Tahiti to oversee the construction of the Mormon Temple down there. Turns out, the woman that dragged us home from church was married to the local Tahitian who got the contract to build it.

We visited the site almost every day and on one of these days, one of these Salt Lake City Mormons seemed to be sizing us up.

Sure, we were two young girls in our early twenties, playing tourists, dressed in shorts looking like we are on our way to the beach.

This was an oddity at best, simply because Tahiti is so d**n expensive, we were so young and we weren’t staying at a resort or Club Med, so he figured we must be rich and looking for “a good time.”

This guy pulls me off to the side and, acting as if he were my Bishop, tells me while I am in Tahiti, to “remember who I am.”

In other words, no monkey business, fooling around with the locals, etc.

I was really taken aback. He has no idea who I am (5 generations Mormon) or what my story is.

Thirty-six years later and twenty-four trips to Tahiti, not only do I know who I am, but MANY people involved in the traditional cultural arts (dance and music) in Tahiti, including government officials, know who I am!

Someday I’ll probably run into this guy on a street corner in Utah, and will I ever let him know ‘what’s up!'” Cindy

21. Try To Take Advantage Of My Old Parents And “Steal” Their House? No Way

“My parents own a building in a very vibrant area of Chicago – they bought the property before the neighborhood had gentrified and become one of the hippest areas of the city.

Needless to say, there have been several developers who had visited long time non-English speaking homeowners and offered to buy the property in cash on the spot. Unfortunately, a lot of those homeowners were wooed.

We had such a developer call us and ask if he’d be able to come by and have a discussion. My parents looped us in as they’re from Latin America and they wanted English speakers in on the conversation.

The day of our convo the man showed up in regular clothes, nothing fancy. No sign of the big-shot developer. He eyed the property for a few minutes sat down with us, hiding any reaction. In an unimpressed manner, the man said

“We can give you $X, in cash. You won’t get a better offer than that.”

We thanked him and declined and he left.

That was that. We knew he low balled us tremendously (but not by how much) and as such, we were offended that he would think we’d jump at the offer as well as his stern and confident…”You won’t get a better offer…” remark.

Well, he called the next day and informed us he managed to get 35% more cash to tack onto his original offer.

OK, SO WAIT…

You were confident enough to say we “won’t get a better offer” the day before but the property was valuable enough for you to find 35% more cash than what you had originally stated??

Well, that having said, we knew the property was worth more than his initial offer as well his revised offer.

Fast forward a few years, and several pleas from him, later.

My parents still own the property and thought they would get it properly appraised. Turns out the property is worth 350% more than what he had initially stated.

What irks me is that he hoped to do what other developers in the area have done to several families. Offer a large amount in cash in hopes that the owners would be so excited by the offer they’d accept. No thanks. Edwin

20. We Don’t Look Like Tippers? Well, I Have A Tip For You

“My cousin and I went to a particular restaurant for breakfast once or twice a week. We had a regular waiter and the host knew where we wanted to sit already. I specifically liked this waiter because his service was not only incredible, but he helped out waiters in other sections, even though he knows he’s not getting tips from other tables.

One day our guy was off so we got stuck with someone else. Our service was s-l-l-l-l-l-o-w. We waited 12 minutes to get greeted and our drink order taken. Was it busy? No, she had 3 tables and the restaurant was pretty empty. Was she a line cook or manager pulling double duty? No.

She got our drink orders wrong. My cousin always ordered water and I always ask for a Coke no ice. We both got heavily iced, Dr. Peppers. We put in our order and tell her about our drinks. She fixed the drinks but never gave a refill.

After she took our order on her way back, she refills the coffee of table 2, turns her back on table 3 a man trying to get his check, and spends 5 minutes talking about gardening to table 2.

Our food orders were also wrong. After waiting 30 minutes of not seeing her at all, my cousin suggested getting a to-go box for his unfinished meal because he didn’t get the condiments that are supposed to come with it, I told him to leave it. We’re talking to a manager.

–

Said manager proceeded to waive off all our concerns and excused the waitress at everything I said. He was fiercely determined to convince us to pay for the meal because we as customers don’t understand.

“Sir, I have worked in the restaurant business as everything on the salesfloor including supervisor, and I know we don’t have the appearance of good tippers…”

His demeanor completely changed. He was extremely apologetic and wrote down every complaint then signed a card for an apologetic free meal for two.” Mark

19. Just Because I Don’t Look Like They Can Kick Your Butt Doesn’t Mean I Can’t Or Won’t

“It happened a few years ago.

I moved to a new city for work and college. In my second year of college, I managed to make a friend with one of my seniors. One day he invited me to watch a movie with some of his friends, and I agreed. After I noticed a group of people at the corner of the cinema, sitting around the table and laughing loudly, the voice sounded familiar and I immediately knew that it was my friend. I walked toward them and greeted them, there was another four people. I knew some of them, but there is one face I had never seen before; after a brief exchange I knew he was also my friend’s acquaintance – let’s call him Patrick.

Patrick is in his first year of college, which makes him my junior. At first, I thought he was a cool guy, he was 175 cm tall, wide build, and had a f*ckboy haircut. I was wrong, and I immediately knew I wouldn’t be able to get along with him once he started talking to me.

All he talked about was himself, what he liked, and what he hated, etc. He was very self-centered. If that’s not bad enough he acted like he was smart enough to educate other people. I only replied to all of his rubbish with “Is that so?”, “I see” while keeping a smile on my face. At this point, the only thought remaining in my mind was “I want to go home.”

I even kept thinking whether or not I should say goodbye to my seniors.

Because there was a lot of time before the movie started, we decided to play some arcade games, and there was one arcade center inside the cinema. They were already in their third year of college and they still acted like kids, they spoke and laughed loudly, even though they were irritating other people, I quite like this kind of people.

There were four Mario Kart machines, my senior and his friends get on and start playing, while Patrick and I stood behind them. Suddenly Patrick started kneeing me in my thighs until my posture became like this.

I looked behind me and saw Patrick with his ridiculous smile.

“Man, you got weak knees.”

“Yeah, I sure do.”

I felt very irritated, but I turned back to watching my senior and his friends playing.

But Patrick kept kneeing me.

“Your leg is like jelly, it’s very weak, I only poke it a little and your leg just bends like that.”

I kept my cool and being sarcastic I said, “I’m sorry if I have got a weak leg.”

“It’s okay, how about I teach you some Muay Thai? I have learned it from when I was little.”

At this point, I was at a loss of words.

I looked at him with my mouth agape in disbelief.

“No need, I probably won’t be able to handle the training anyway.”

“It’s okay, It’s okay, I will teach you and I’m sure you will grow stronger.”

You could clearly see he was acting high and mighty from the look in his eyes. Maybe because I’m very slim for a man (60kg), and only 168cm tall.

I ignored him completely and turned my gaze back at the Mario Kart screen in front of me. After my seniors were done we walked around the arcade center to search for what to play next. And something caught his eyes.

The good old punching machine.

“Hey! Let’s play this!”

My senior looked very pumped up. So we all agreed to do it.

My senior and his friends went up first. Each of them tried to give the machine a good punch. Their score was about 300 and 400. Then it was Patrick’s turn.

“Ohhh, Patrick, I heard before you know Muay Thai right? Try and punch this as hard as you can,” one of the senior friends said. Looked like they overheard what Patrick was talking about before.

Patrick grinned and said ‘Okay’, He stood in front of the machine and took a boxing stance, he swung his left arm with all of his power, it was at that moment I noticed he was left-handed. The punching bag went down and the score showed up on the screen, about 500-ish. The senior and his friends began to compliment him, Patrick puffed his chest out proudly and looked in my direction with a smug face.

“Your turn.”

I didn’t say anything and stood in front of the punching machine. The only thing in my mind was to vent up all of my frustration, I imagined the punching pad as Patrick’s face, I stretched my arm behind my back and gave the punching pad a good solid and hard right hook.

The punching pad fell down and the score showed up. More than 600.

My senior and his friends suddenly yelled in shock and began to hug me and jump around. I used the corner of my eye to see Patrick’s reaction; he was dumbfounded. After that, he never bothered me again that day. While I was watching the movie, my hand kept hurting and being trained in Boxing and Tae kwon do for six years, I knew this was not a good sign.

That day after we watched the movie, I stopped at the clinic on my way home to get my hand checked, it was swollen, the doctor used an X-ray to check my hands, turned out my finger was fractured.

I guess being retired for a few years and suddenly punching something with all of your strength is not a good idea.

It took a month for my finger to be fully healed, it also cost a not so small amount of money to heal it, but h**l, it was worth it to see Patrick’s face, it’s priceless.” Jonathan

18. She Thought This Was Our First Child

“Discharge day from the NICU. (neonatal intensive care unit). A young nurse (in her early 20s) came to unhook all the monitors and such from our newborn son and escort us out of the hospital. She dazzled us with a wide smile, eyes radiant with the light of knowledge and experience. She simply vibrated with the sheer power of her wisdom-which she MUST share. She began to flood forth encouragement….

“You’ve GOT this! [huge smile] Raising a baby may seem scary and intimidating, but it’s perfectly natural! [comforting pat on arm] You’ll know exactly what to do….”

My husband and I took turns offering polite smiles in return, nodding in agreement, interjecting things like, “You’re absolutely right,” “So true, so true.”

The nurse continued.

“Don’t let anyone make you feel like you can’t do this. Trust your instinct. You’re going to be great parents…,” and on and on and on.

My husband and I squirmed and eased the bassinet toward the elevator, trying desperately to avoid appearing rude while the nurse chased after us, heaping on more and more reassurance. “You’re all going to be FINE!”

We reached the elevator and paused. The nurse noticed the family photo we’d taped in the bassinet, picturing my husband and I with our six older children, ages 2 to 20.

“Is that your family?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. We took that this summer.”

Poor girl. She clamped her mouth shut and didn’t speak another word to us.

I felt bad we didn’t mention it was far from our first time on this ride, but she truly wouldn’t let us get a word in edgewise.

Maybe the light of her own wisdom was too dazzling for even her.” Ailina

17. I Did My Research About Fish Infections And The Fish “Expert” Still Has No Clue

“Admittedly, this guy had about 40 years of learning about this subject on me, but… I’ll let you make your mind up.

I used to have 2 two-foot fish tanks filled with endless, guppies, a betta, cherry shrimp, live plants… it was awesome. I also had a few smaller tanks as well with bettas. Note: do not buy a betta. You will not be able to stop.

I bought a bottom feeder to munch on the algae of one of my tanks. Shortly afterward, I started losing my guppies. Then one of the fighters (bettas) died.

More guppies died. I was dissecting them to figure out what the h**l was going on. Nothing.

I was treating for fungal infections, bacterial infections and I even dewormed them and nothing worked. I was really worried that it was fish TB, which is a life sentence as well as zoonotic.

One evening, I was looking at one of my fighters who was sleeping, and a few thin red threads were coming out of his a**s. [1] This was simultaneously a relief and a worry for me because, after all of my research, I found out what the camalla**s worm was. In severe infestations (to the point of extruding from the a**s), the treatment can cause the fish to die, as the worm damages the digestive tract of the fish and causes septicemia.

The reason why the antiparasitics didn’t work was that they respond to levasimol but the stuff I got from the pet store was praziquantel.

I successfully treated my fish and only lost another betta and a few more guppies. It was carnage. Two bettas and at least 12 guppies.

About a year later, I started talking to a pet store owner. I told him about my issues with the camalla**s worms and he cut me off and said

“You didn’t have them.”

“Uuuhhh…I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Canallamus (that’s not a typo – that’s how he pronounced it) doesn’t exist in Australia. I should know, I’ve been working in the industry for 40 years and I’ve never seen it before.”

“There were red threads sticking out of his a*s.”

“No there wasn’t.

You were wrong. You definitely didn’t have them.”

“They stopped dying after I treated them with the correct dewormer.”

“Where did you get this information from?”

“The internet.”

“Well, there you go. You cannot trust anything that you read on the internet. I’m right and you’re wrong.”

I could have **c***g strangled him.

I spent hours researching what could have been wrong with my fish. I finally figured it out and got a very good diagnosis (I mean, what other diagnostic tests do I have to do other than “red worms were coming out of its butt”? It’s a diagnostic symptom because only camallanus worms do that.) I even learned the names of the correct and incorrect treatments, how they work, and the scientific name of the parasite.

But because I read it on the internet, I was definitely wrong. And the expert that said that I was wrong couldn’t even pronounce the name correctly.

Moral of the story? Just because you have X numbers of years in X industry, and someone younger than you comes in and says that you might be wrong, actually listen to them. Because if I had gone to him, I would have lost a lot more fish than I already had, rather than doing my own research.

And to prove my point, last year I saw camallanus worms in my micro lab course.

Screw you fish “expert.” meredith

16. He Tried To Fatten Me Up To An Unhealthy Weight And My Friend Said That It’s OK

“Ok, to set the scene: I was going out with this guy who was lovely but he hated every time I talked about losing weight.

He always said I was perfect because I was a real woman with curves. I wasn’t perfect. I was obese. I needed to lose weight. Every time we hung out, he would make me get extra slices of pizza or drink more soda, or have an extra helping of cake definitely if I look like I was losing weight. I gained ten pounds from dating him.

On to the story: I was complaining to my friend about this and how I was afraid if I stayed with him, he would fight me tooth and nail to not lose weight and how for my health I should be thinner. I told her how he praised my weight and said my curves were perfect and if I lost weight, I won’t be beautiful anymore.

I told her I think I have to break up with him for my own wellbeing.

She straight out told me that I should stay with him because he loved me. That was her advice. She said maybe you weren’t supposed to be thin and it’s better to be fat and with somebody than skinny and alone.

She reminded me I barely date and had such long periods of being single that this was probably my only chance of somebody loving me. She said just to eat the yummy food and do what he wants. We also discussed some s*x issues we were having but that is not very vital to this story just she said I should make him happy. Whatever.

That hurt me.

But then again, she was the one who met a guy at an airport and within three months was engaged to him. This was a woman who stayed with a man who only snuck out of his house to hang out with her (he was native american and in their tribe, the boy stays with the parents until marriage), she was the person who allowed herself to be hit, r***d, beat up. So I decided she didn’t have a good relationship track record and not to listen to her.

I went back to my boyfriend’s house and had a long talk. In the end, we broke up. I told him for the most part, he was wonderful but that I need to lose weight for myself, and if he doesn’t respect that, we are through.

I’m still single and I’m still overweight but losing weight slowly. I’m still glad I broke up with him. I probably would be a good forty pounds heavier by now if I stayed.” Mel

15. Her Condescending Advice Helped Me Land The House I Wanted To Buy

“Background first: I had observed a number of real estate auctions, and was pretty excited about the opportunities to buy a house at auction. The prices were extremely low compared to buying similar houses via the standard procedure. There are reasons for the huge price discrepancy, which I will explain below.

But first, I’ve had a few people argue with me when I explain that this is how these real estate auctions worked. You may well have a different auction experience and that’s fine, but my description reflects my experiences.

Here are the rules for buying real estate at auction:

If you win the house at auction, you are required to buy it, and make full payment by an established date (perhaps 30 days after the auction). You cannot back out if the bank won’t finance it, or because you changed your mind, or because the septic test fails, or there is no drinkable water, or you can’t get insurance, etc. There is one contingency and only one that allows you to back out, and that is if the seller cannot provide a clear title (they can’t prove that they own it).
If you do not make full payment by the deadline, the house is immediately put up for auction again, and you are required to:
pay the full costs of the second auction, including all advertising and the auctioneer’s commission
pay any difference between what you had bid and the winning bid at the second auction, if the house sells for less than what you had bid

Why Houses Can be Cheap at Auction

The reason for the extremely low prices is this: The seller needs a guaranteed sale ASAP.

They don’t have time to list the house with a real estate agent, or they wouldn’t be auctioning it. The buyer is taking an uncommon risk in buying the house, and they have to have all the money available. They could possibly have a variety of tests done on the house prior to the auction if the seller and time will permit, but even so, they still have to have the cash on hand (or guaranteed financing in place). Because of the burdens placed on the buyer, there is not a large pool of buyers. The result is that the houses can sell for far less than their appraised value.

Enter the Condescending Banks

I had about $40K cash saved up, but even though houses were selling pretty cheaply at auction, they weren’t selling that cheaply.

I had found a house that I really liked, and based on the auctions that I had attended, I estimated that it would probably sell for less than $80K. So I went to a few banks, explained the situation, and asked if they would be willing to finance the purchase. They were certainly willing, but they had to have a copy of the sales agreement first. They had procedures, and they were completely inflexible. Bank after bank told me this. And if I bought at auction, then tried to finance, they weren’t about to speed up their procedures for me (which meant that I would end up defaulting on the deal).

The last bank that I approached was pretty condescending. After making it clear that they wouldn’t flex their rules, or consider lending me $40K prior to the sale, the lady said, ‘you do have $40K’ with a tone that said ‘I don’t believe that you have anything’.

And she said ‘maybe we can give you a credit card’.

Sure. Like I’m going to buy a house with a credit card …

As I thought about how ridiculous this was, and the huge opportunity that I was about to miss out on, it dawned on me that my mail was always stuffed with preapproved credit card offers that I routinely threw away. And I can borrow money on those cards.

I immediately applied for every card that I could, and by the time the auction rolled around, I had my original $40K, plus I could borrow another $41K on credit cards, thanks to Ms. Condescending. I ended up winning the auction for $71K.

The Rest of the Story

After the auction was over, I talked to the seller and found out a few things.

One was that he had a $50K balloon payment coming due, which had forced him to sell by auction. Also, that about a year ago the house had appraised for $165K. Most importantly, I found the name of the bank that he owed the $50K to. I really didn’t want to borrow $31K on credit cards, so I contacted that bank, explained the situation, and asked them to lend me the $31K. I reminded them that if we didn’t close on this deal, they would not get their $50K.

They agreed, but then began their obligatory foot-dragging procedures which are designed to frustrate their customers. OK, that may not be the real reason that they drag their feet. Maybe. But here we had a time-sensitive issue and they had a $50K stake in it.

Yet they insisted on doing procedures in a consecutive manner when they could have been done concurrently. When I pointed out that there was no reason to wait for procedure 1 to be finished before beginning procedure 2, they simply said it was policy.

After it became apparent that they weren’t trying to meet the deadline I was obliged to meet, I had really had enough of banks and their inflexibility. Here’s something that not everyone knows, and it can be useful when negotiating: Banks are actually under pressure to lend money to people. As much as they appear reluctant to do so, their loan department has to lend out their money to someone.

Time to turn the tables on the banks!

I contacted the bank and told them the date I was going to close on the house.

If they wanted to come to the closing and participate by lending them money, they were welcome to do so. If they were unable to meet the schedule, that was fine with me and I would borrow on the credit cards and close without them. Period.

They suddenly found the ability to speed up their procedures and they lent me the money in time for the closing date I had set.” John

14. Any 15-Year-Old Can Do This Job? You Better Watch Your Mouth, Young Man

“I had moved to the area not even two years earlier. I was looking for jobs that I previously had (Exec. Asst. to VPs, Office Manager), but nothing was panning out. I was offered a database position, regardless of the fact I hadn’t worked in that database before, yet I took it because I wanted to increase my skill set.

Right away, it was obvious that my new workplace didn’t like that database, didn’t like the fact they were “forced” to use it. I was brought on to be the central point-person working in that database. I was to be a one-stop-shop: anyone wanting to know at which phase-gate an approval was still pending, I’d find that out; anyone needing a new entry put into the database, I’d be the one to do it; any information that needed correcting and resubmitting into the database, yep, it was up to me. The database wasn’t user-friendly, yet the overwhelming misperception by people there was that any entry-level person fresh out of high-school could do it.

In 3 months after starting, I was fast becoming the resident-expert in the database.

I was even training others how to navigate it, where corrections and addendums were entered, how to set up proxies, etc.

In one training -with high-up managers and supervisors plus my dept’s supervisor in attendance -one of the attendees (a project manager) decided to blurt out “oh c’mon!! We don’t need this training, ANYONE can work that *colorful metaphor* database, my idiot 15 yr-old could do that!!!” The higher-ups started glaring at this mgr but he wasn’t paying attention.

With a kind but firm tone, I replied, “Considering the multitude of errors I get on a daily basis from your specific dept and personnel, as well as yourself, I was under the assumption that an ‘idiot 15 yr-old’ was who your dept tasked to do your paperwork for you.

Here are some examples of what I’ve kicked back to you as your Dept’s Mgr for corrections: This paperwork says you need $2M for a new construction project, but the dollar-total you have listed is far less than $2M, there can’t be even a discrepancy of a single penny; this new work is being done in _____ state whose funding code is 02, but a different state whose funding code is 16 is listed; an internal payroll code is cited as the funding source for this upcoming construction project instead of a construction code; a fiscal-year code that expired two years ago is listed on this paperwork for work that will be done in this fiscal year. These are errors I’m catching before I input this into the database.

It’s better the work be correct from the get-go so the approvals can be more streamlined. Streamlined means the approvals and authorizations happen faster, which means your projects won’t be delayed due to paperwork. This was not happening prior to me working here. By the way, I’ve committed all these codes to memory; I doubt an ‘idiot 15-yr old’ would do the same.

Regardless of whether you like this database or not, regardless of your opinion of me, I am here to help. But I cannot be of help if my effectiveness is continually undermined by assumptions that ‘any idiot teenager’ can do what I do. Now, back to my presentation, gentlemen, you’ll see that…”

After that training, that Mgr still hadn’t improved any.

But at least some higher-ups got better visibility about the database and its hang-ups… and the person who insisted on keeping their heads in the sand. And, word got out that “New Girl knows what she’s talking about, so definitely ask her if you need answers.” Alicia

13. Don’t Waste Time With Mansplaining – It Won’t Get You Far

“Being an intelligent person, and female, I ran into this situation a lot over the past 40 years. I feel like I should share an exchange with a former co-worker, I will call him Dee (short for Tweedledee). Managing a stand-alone department with multiple vehicles, I had always worked directly with various repair shops for routine and other maintenance, and it worked well, for a while.

Our Board decided to save money by requiring all routine maintenance done by a self-proclaimed mechanic on the handyman crew (AKA facilities maintenance). Over the course of time, we purchased a small trailer that required one of the vehicles to be retro-fitted for towing. This was a fairly new vehicle that we had never had a bit of trouble with. It only had about 20,000 miles on it when we started getting multiple check engine codes and it lost power randomly.

Our Mr. Dee had the car for 2 days and couldn’t figure out the problem (!). He took the vehicle to the local shop and they had it about a week. So, Dee comes back to my office and begins this long, over-simplistic discourse on electrical systems and how complex they are on newer vehicles and how important it is to have them properly repaired, etc, and ad nauseam.

I asked him, point-blank, and rather bluntly, “What is wrong with it?” His reply?

“Well, I don’t know if you would understand it, how much do YOU know about cars?” Barely keeping my composure (at this time he had wasted about 30 minutes dumbing down and mansplaining) I asked him to give it to me straight and I would stop him if I didn’t understand.

When he stopped to take a breath, I broke it down for him this way:

“The complete wiring harness needs to be replaced because there was a short, and it keeps shorting. Hm, I wonder if it was caused by someone wiring for the towing retro-fit improperly?” I am afraid I was pretty curt at this point. Of course, he denied causing any part of the problem, citing that this was a known issue on that model vehicle.

We lost the use of this vehicle for two weeks and it cost us about $2,000 in shop time for the repairs, not to mention an hour of my time wasted on a useless discussion. I could have taken the vehicle to the shop for the towing package initially for about $300. Nice money-saving measures.” Suzanne

12. Try To Tell Me You’re The Expert? More Like Expert Scammers

“I have been programming and designing computers since the time of paper tape, punch cards, and 300 baud modems. I have patents on computer security techniques and have designed globe-spanning communications systems.

So I always get a thrill out of receiving a call that my computer is sending lots of data to a “Microsoft” site and they need to review my system.

The person on the other end of the phone call starts by explaining how my systems are sending a lot of data indicating that I have some kind of trojan horse or virus on my machine. I claim it is unlikely because of my double firewall environment tends to prevent that kind of activity, but we can investigate.

The caller usually tries to get me to open up some log files. Since most people ignore their log files, the log files can get quite full of crap. So, it’s a nice tactic when the person doesn’t know what is going on – it looks like the computer is hemorrhaging errors when it is just code spewing stupid logs because software engineers never like to remove a good log once it is in.

At this point, I usually ask them for the IP address of the offending machine because I have several that I am managing. This is when they start to get really condescending. They try to explain that I need their help because they are experts and I need to install their repairing software right away. At this point, the call tends to go sideways as I explain that I have been working on computers since before they were born and I never download unknown code because of a random phone call. Sometimes the call ends gracefully, but often it ends will them swearing at me or doing something stupid.

Still, it is fun toying with them for a while to see what they will try to do.

I love how they try to justify their efforts by saying it’s very complex and technical and I wouldn’t understand. Unfortunately, they never learn. I know I will be getting another call in the next few months since it has been a while since the last call. I wonder what their next condescending comment will be to get me to download their virus or spam-ware.” Skip

11. He Assumed I’m Uneducated And Can’t Speak English So I Had To “Show Off” A Little

“Sunday afternoon, NJ Transit train, Northeast Corridor line between New York, NY, and Trenton, NJ, autumn 1983.

A middle-aged white man in a bad suit gets on at the Newark station. He asks me, “Is this the train to Philadelphia?” in that loud, overly enunciated voice that people use when they assume I’m a foreigner or recent immigrant.

If you’re not taking Amtrak to Philly, I tell him, then you take this train to the last stop, Trenton, and switch to the SEPTA train. It’s slower but a lot cheaper than Amtrak.

He thanks me and settles into the seat across the aisle from me. He’s feeling grateful, so he decides to “compliment” me. You speak English very well.

Thanks. So do you.

No, I mean, because…. He waves his hand up and down to indicate my whole person.

Yes, you too, because…. I imitate his hand gesture back at him.

He looks at me curiously. He assumes I don’t understand him, so he starts to launch into an explanation, loudly and clearly.

I ignore him and pull a textbook out of my bag. I was home in Manhattan for the weekend but had to catch up on some reading.

He leans across the aisle to read the title.

Atoms and Molecules? He reads out loud. Oh, I learned about them in middle school. What are you, in high school? Well, you seem smart, so I bet if you keep studying you’ll catch up.

*** SIGH *** Time for the big guns, I guess.

I pull out a folder emblazoned with a gaudy gold embossed Princeton University shield, something I got during orientation. In reality, it’s just filled with D&D stuff, but I flash it at him and lay it on the seat next to me.

Really? Do you think so? That’s kind of you to say. I open the textbook and show him the chapter I have to read, a sprawl of Hamiltonians, Laplacians, h-bar, eigenvalues, partial derivatives, and the like.

Quantum chemistry’s usually a graduate-level course and I’m just a freshman, so I really feel like I’m behind. Did you study this too? Because I could use some help.

At the next stop, he moved to a different seat.

I put down the textbook and went through my D&D stuff.” Gaku

10. Just Because My Tie is $1.25 Doesn’t Mean I Don’t Have Money

“My wife is always asking me to dress better. Then she gets a little bit irked when I go to St. Vincent de Paul, and buy used shoes and clothes, including suits. Being a little on the smaller size I sometimes happen to have slacks or sleeves shortened. But I pass fashionable well when dressed up, especially with my $1.25 ties.

Now going to buy cars from a dealer, I have always bought new ones. But I don’t dress up to buy a car, so I look like a working stiff, sometimes pinching nickels together. I have usually determined the car I want to buy and the price, based on a couple of dealerships.

I usually see the car I am interested in and then a reluctant salesperson comes along. I am rather blunt and ask if this is the best price that can be offered on the car. This salesperson often then tries to escape, handing me off to a junior person on the sales team. This person expounds on all the luxury items featured on the car, and so the price is rather set.

However, for a cost conscience customer as myself, the next downsize version -.

I stop the salesperson mid-sentence. I’m not downsizing. What is the best deal? The salesperson has been programmed not to let price be a deterrent. Don’t think of the price of the car, the salesperson condescendingly tells me, but what size of monthly payment would I like. I ask once again what is the best price I can get the car for.

Now one will notice the salesperson doing hand signals, or walking you to a certain place, all part of a program to hand you off to another salesperson, or in secret sales terms, your last salesperson sees you as not being profitable, sometimes because a person wearing better clothes has entered the lot.

So I am handed off a second time. This salesperson asks me what it’ll take to get me into a car today. I ask once again is that the best sales price for the car. This salesperson wants to go down the same payment plans. Price, I ask, as I tell the wife it is time to go to another dealer.

We can negotiate a little. That’s good says the wife, my husband likes to buy the car outright.

We go into the boiler room where the sales guy goes back and forth like a shuttlecock to his manager. Twice I have threatened to leave. But a deal is struck.

The other two previous salespeople watch on at a distance, their better-dressed clients having departed without buying.

The wife wanders around unnoticed to them, hearing one ask, “Who would have thought he’d have the money?” James

9. You’re A Prof And Don’t Want To Support Me As Your Student? Good Luck In Life

“I had flunked out of MIT and returned a year & a half later, now on probation, meaning any grade less than a C and I would be gone forever.

I had revised my major from EE to Life Science and was now required to take physical chemistry and not just plain P-chem, but P-chem for chemistry majors. ARRRGH!

The class had a new Asst. Prof. who had just gotten his Ph.D. from Caltech and thought that he was hot **** … sizzling hot ****. On the midterm, whose class average was something like 31, I got a 17 — whoops.

I went to him for help and he connected me with one of his grad students who tutored me. But in the conversation with Prof., he asked “Do you really think that you are MIT material? Don’t you think going back home and attending a state school would be better for you?” Condescending comment #1. Not the most supportive comment possible.

So I studied my butt off with the help of my tutor (a really solid guy who, by the way, is now an Emeritus Prof. at Stanford) and took the final, hoping for the best.

Actually, I thought I did pretty well, but knowing the Prof. and my need to avoid a D or worse, I remained anxious. Got my grades: C in P-chem, and so I remained at MIT (and the following year, took a second year of P-chem, probably the only LIfe Science major in a class of chem majors).

When I got back to school for next year, I went to see Prof. and asked him to show me my final: The class average was 37. I got a 91 and was 2nd high in a class of approx. 60 of mostly chem majors, with high in class being a chem major with a 94. (Just how a 17 with a class average of 31 and a 91 with a class average of 37 amounted to a C grade for the class I don’t know — this Prof had his own way of doing things.) The Prof. looked at me and with a straight face asked, “Did you get one of your fraternity brothers to take the final for you? I don’t believe that you wrote the exam.” Condescending comment #2.

I offered to compare writing samples and to re-take the exam in his presence. He deferred. I  just got up and walked out disgusted. My only consolation is that years later, I learned that he was declined tenure and wound up at a no-name school.

The following year, I graduated and won an NSF Fellowship for the grad school of my choice. I went to Caltech where the next year I took a grad student seminar and in the course of things asked the Prof, “Would you happen to know [my ex-P-chem Prof at MIT]?” “Yes,” he said, “I was his major professor.” I told him my story about P-chem at MIT. He was amused. “Yes,” he said, “That sounds just like [that guy]. But don’t be concerned — he was not the sharpest tack in the box.” We got along just fine.

Richard Wills, SB MIT ’65, Ph.D. Caltech ’70, JD UCLA ’79” Richard

8. The Dean Assumed I Was Dropping Out Of College Without Looking At My Resume

“I graduated from university with a bachelor of science in nursing, passed the nursing board exam, and received my RN license. I planned to pursue a master’s in physical therapy directly after graduation but found out I had 6 more prerequisites before I could even apply. These included: 2 semesters of physics, 2 semesters of chemistry, 1 semester of biology, and one computer class. I decided to take those classes at a local community college (much less expensive.) I was taking six credits, working weekends as a physical therapy technician, and working 20 hours a week at the community college for a 50% discount on tuition.

The department was called “Continuing Education for Nursing and Allied Science”. Basically: nurses, physical/occupational/speech/respiratory therapists, and dental hygienists took classes at the community college to maintain their licensure. I was responsible for making copies of required reading and handouts, assembling the syllabus, setting up classrooms, etc. Six or seven other people worked in the department also. Most of them were between 18 and 20 years old, just a little younger than me, working toward their bachelor’s degrees. One year later I was getting tired of school and couldn’t envision 1 more year of prerequisites plus 3 years of grad school. I decided to get a job as a nurse in another city instead of pursuing my master’s degree. I didn’t register for classes the next semester and gave 2 weeks’ notice at my job.

Within a few days, I got a request from the continuing education department head asking me to meet with her and the dean of the nursing school for an exit interview. I thought it was so odd! No other student employees had to have an exit interview when they left, let alone meet with the dean and department head! I was very nervous. I had been a stellar employee, I was always on time, I’d never called in sick. I went into the dean’s office and sat down across from the two women.

Dept head: “We got your resignation letter. We’re very concerned you won’t be here anymore. You’ve been an asset to our office and we don’t want to lose you.”

Me: “Thank you.

(Oh good, I’m not in trouble.)”

Dean: “Can we ask why you’re leaving?”

Me: “I’m moving and plan to find a job.”

Dean: “We really hope you reconsider.”

Me: “I see…well, I’ve given it a lot of thought already.” (Wow they really care about my education!)

Dean: “Is it for financial reasons? You’re eligible for more hours if you want, If you’re here 32 hours a week then your tuition would be free. It’s such a shame to quit now because you don’t get very far in life without a bachelor’s degree. We don’t want you to regret this decision.”

I suddenly realized-they assumed I was dropping out of college.

I cleared it up and they were rightly embarrassed. I was gracious before I left but a bit annoyed! If they had even glanced at my resumé or original application on file they could have saved themselves embarrassment and all our time!” Carmen

7. Judge Me By My Appearance At A Poker Table? I Might Just Bankrupt You

“I happened to find myself on a spur-of-the-moment (for me) trip to Vegas with a friend of mine and his father.

I wasn’t really planning on gambling more than a $50 here or there on some table games, and maybe some slots with them. Definitely no 8hr poker grinding. It was a vacation after all and I didn’t need to foot the bill besides food/drink/gambling (except when his dad gave me a hundred and we made a bet who could make more on the high roller slots. That’s a different story).

So, with this in mind, I sauntered through the poker room at The Bellagio just eyeing the tables, getting a feel for it. I’d heard great things about the poker room there and it was definitely gorgeous. Along with one of the walls, they were running a 5/10 NL game. At this time I was a regular 2/5 grinder, which at my room had a Max buy-in of $1,000 (200 bb) this max buy-in was $1,500 (150 bb).

So although the blinds were higher, and the action, it wasn’t that much different than what I was used to, and I’d dabbled in 5/10 before with good results.

So, there I was, in jeans, a loose hoody, and an “Avenged 7-2 Fold” joke t-shirt I’d bought the previous day that I thought was hilarious, watching some of the action from a courteous distance on the table. After about 5 minutes a gentleman walked by (whom was sitting at the table and was going back) and stopped next to me. He looked me up and down and said something like “I wouldn’t waste your time kiddo, this is the big leagues. Maybe after you’ve played your 1-2 for a few more years, you’ll know enough for us to take your money.” I was a little shocked, because that’s pretty a*******h, even for a poker room.

So, I decided maybe I should play some poker! See how Vegas action fares. I texted my friend letting him know, went to the cage and asked for a 5/10 seat, and pulled 3k out of my “bankroll” account.

I specifically asked for a seat at that table, because, I wanted to prove a point. The action was decent, and the few regulars that were there were really good players for sure. I held my own though.

I walked away 5 hours later, was up $3200, and proving a point to myself, and that guy.

Never judge a book by its cover. It might just bankrupt you!” Mike

6. You Don’t Think I Know CPR? What Kind Of Training Do You Think Flight Attendants Go Through?

“I met him through some friends – he was in between two girls that he called “the smartest girl I have ever met, the kind that I wanna have babies with.”

I introduced myself as a lowly-paid cabin crew, an inside joke I shared with some of my flying colleagues.

This is pretty much how we cabin crews usually self-mocked ourselves. In this line of work, if you can’t take a joke, you better don’t become one. Cabin crews are known to have some of the darkest sense of humor – courtesy of the stress bags you have to meet on a daily basis.

He smirked and made some remarks about how easy it is to date one of us but he just doesn’t want to do it. He prefers his woman to be a bit more level-headed; assuming I am probably the dramatic type (cuz I was a cabin crew?)

Huh, whatever, I thought to myself. He’s not exactly right up my alley if I were to date (at that time).

One weekend, a group of us decided to watch a movie.

We went around to a girl’s house, pot luck style, and sat down to watch reruns of Harry Potter.

Amidst the smoke (some people were hacking darts), one of the guy’s girlfriends suffered an asthma attack (she didn’t tell us – she just distance herself from the smoker so we thought it’s a case of her disliking the smell). Someone passes her the inhaler. She took a puff (or two?) but still struggled to take a clear breath.

He decided she should lie down (on her back, the horror!) to create a clear airway to breathe (cue me here saying HUH? multiple times). I immediately objected; my First Aid and CPR training kicks in. I instructed her to sit at a table and lean forward, so her lungs can expand and she can breathe easier.

Pretty basic knowledge in my opinion.

He argued with me: “You don’t know what you’re doing. That’s not gonna help her.”

Him again: “Listen to me, I was part of Red Cross (volunteers) in university. (To her) Do as I told you!”

I ignored him. He almost shouted at me. I tried to maintain my focus in assisting the girl to breathe better while this stress bag kept telling me what I was supposed to do. After quite sometimes, she no longer wheezed and was able to thank me. I asked if she needs me to call a doctor, but she insisted she’s fine and her boyfriend would send her to the clinic immediately.

I got up, looked him squarely in the eyes, and said, “Just because I’m a cabin crew, doesn’t mean I don’t know what the **** I was doing.

All trained cabin crew also double as trained First Aid responders. And also, I was a Pharmacy grad with experience working in a hospital setting before. What are your credentials?”

Never had to interact or be in the same social setting with him again. Partly because I refuse to be in one if he shows up, partly because if ever I have to interact with him again, I might punch his face.

I mean, just because someone’s job doesn’t portray them as smart, doesn’t mean they’re less educated than you.” Nuralia

5. I Thought They Were Going To Start A Fight, But She Put On Quite The Performance Instead

“Well, it wasn’t me, to be honest. But I witnessed it on the train to work.

I had the late shift, so the train wasn’t overly full. I dropped into my seat, grabbed for a book and started to read.

The next station a bunch of rude young men climbed in and dropped into some free seats. They were noisy, and most surely not on the way to work. I didn’t pay much attention until one of them spoke out loud.

“What are you reading?”

I looked up to answer and then realized that he was speaking to the Muslim girl, maybe Turkish, or from the Middle East (don’t know, don’t care). She wore a long dress and a hijab. She’s good looking, in her early 20s.

She ignored the bunch and the question and kept on reading.

“Reading the Quran, aren’t you? That’s all you can read, that book of yours!”

The woman ignored him.

I was watching by now, carefully. This could become nasty, and I sure wouldn’t allow the men to become harmful or insulting.

“HEY! What are you reading? Which Sura? Bet it’s something about clothing! Why don’t you answer? Isn’t it written in your book that a woman should obey men? Why don’t you read some REGULAR books? Does your Quran forbid it?”

She looked up.

“No, it does not!”

Laughter.

“Read us something from that book! You CAN read, can you? Not just pretending you can?”

I was short of getting up. One against… 4 or 5? Well, bad luck then, for them…

The young woman lifted her book higher. And now I could see the cover. One broad grin split my face. I too had that book.

And it was NOT the Quran.

The woman switched pages, and than read, now in perfect English:

“To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die-to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream-ay, there’s the rub:

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause-there’s the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th’oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,

The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th’unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovere’d country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action.”

Hamlet – Shakespeare.

Very well done, too. There was silence for a short time, then I applauded, some more passengers followed, and finally, the bullies applauded too.” Reinhard

4. Leave Me For A Younger Partner Then Give Me Homeowner Advice? K Yeah No Bye

“Upon meeting my ex when we were dating, one of my buddies told me, “She thinks she’s smarter than she really is.” I didn’t think much of his comment, as he’s the kind of person who doesn’t like many people. Six years and two kids later, she and I were done after she fled to her newer, better, and more exciting life.

When we disclosed pay stubs when child support as being calculated, she was surprised about my salary, as she thought I made about $20k less per year.

I thought that was odd as I budgeted on a spreadsheet to which she had access, and on another tab, keep track of my net worth (cash, 401(k), ESPP). I had also bought the family (her) a ~$40k SUV (to replace her Mitsubishi jalopy) a few months before she started cheating on me with her s**y college football jock beau who was ten years her junior and twenty mine. Yeah, he was still a senior. She left with minimal drama after many months. Worst months of my life. Thankfully, the kids were too young to understand what was going on.

She got involved in what used to be called the World Financial Group, which sold life insurance and other financial instruments. Its associates worked under a multi-level marketing model (a legal pyramid scheme, basically).

I’m sure many associates made good money if they recruited enough associates in their down- line. She was so cocky and sure this was her path to riches. From what she told me, the firm used Large Group Awareness Training (LGAT) techniques to motivate (brainwash) their associates. I didn’t offer my opinion and knowledge of LGAT. She tried to sell me insurance though.

Maybe two years after she left, we exchanged the kids in Baskin-Robbins (an ice cream chain). She started into her spiel. Admittedly, she got me on a few points. The 10 hour LGAT training sessions did impart some knowledge. Her tone was patronizing, as she can be (thinking back to what my buddy said). “You should do X. You know your house is your bank.” I was thinking of my two neighbors, both of whom lost their homes shortly after the 2008 financial crisis.

I looked them up on Zillow. One guy lost his home after 25 years. I can almost guarantee they lost their homes by over-leveraging or speculation. I was also thinking, “Did we as Americans learn nothing after 2008?”

I looked at my ex and said, “Actually, I’ll reach $X net worth in about three months, precluding a financial or real estate crash. On a cost basis, I think I’ll still be ok long- term.” She paused, sat back her eyes opening a bit, and said, “Oh, I see. Congratulations,” and never again tried to sell me any of her financial products, nor any of her financial advice.

I’m not special by Bay Area standards (I’m not a software engineer, say), but I’ve done ok by plugging away and living below my means.

Not bad, I think, for a kid one generation off The Rez, and adopted by a mother who suffered from multiple mental illnesses and which resulted in us living in poverty my teen years. Apparently, a home and stability weren’t “s**y” enough, not like hooking up with a college football jock bouncer when out clubbing while Daddy sat at home watching over a toddler and a baby.

That Christmas, she did gift me a self-help book. Was I still a loser? Did I really need help? It was bound in faux leather, like a Bible. That amused me. I flipped through it and re-gifted it to a security guard at work who expressed interest when I told her the story.” Zachary

3. She Was Trash-Talking So I Put Her In Her Place

“Background Information: My family is from Rajshahi, Bangladesh.

It’s a large district in Bangladesh. It is known for its really tasty mangos, lychees, silk industries, and most importantly lots of higher education institutions. You will find lots of solid universities in this district. Both my parents attended Rajshahi University, which is a very competitive university.

I generally do not talk about my experience in Bangladesh, because for the most part, it can come across very negative and judgmental. But that is my experience, and I in no way have a negative mindset about the people there. It’s just the interaction I’ve had there, hasn’t always been positive.

My immediate family and I (parents and sister) live in the United States. We usually are viewed as Americans. We aren’t considered Bengali people.

We are the foreigners. The last time we all went to visit, one of my mother’s friends came to visit us. She had never met me and my sister and wanted to see us. This woman was unlike any woman I have come across in Bangladesh. She is educated. Clearly this woman is intelligent. I believe she and my mother were friends in college. She had this presence about her. She knew how to speak eloquently and she commanded attention from everyone. This was very new and surprising to me. In Bangladesh, most women are very submissive and withdrawn. Most women, will not speak unless spoken to. The women will stay with the women and have mindless gossip, while the men branch off and have their own conversations.

This woman said what she wanted to say with pride and arrogance.

She began this elaborate discussion about how she was able to afford the best for her children. She hired the best tutors for her children and paid for them to attend the best universities in the country. She spared no expense for the best of her children. She continued that by providing the best for her children, she ensured that they would marry into wealthy high powered families that would be very suitable for her own family’s reputation. I was on the side listening to her speak, not saying a word. I’ve learned that you don’t always need to interject into conversations. It’s not important to make a point by stooping down to their level.

But this woman amused me, and I definitely had something to say about her arrogance, but I let her prattle on.

She stated that Dhaka (the capital of Bangladesh) was the only place for anyone to have a chance at a better life. The education was superior, and that people from any other district simply didn’t measure up and couldn’t possibly be as adept and competent as someone receiving their education from Dhaka. It was my turn to chime in. So I said, “so you think only people from Dhaka are intelligent and people from other parts of Bangladesh don’t measure up?” She looked at me as I maintained eye contact with her “my family is from Rajshahi. My cousin studied in Rajshahi.

She is beyond intelligent. She is working towards her Masters’s degree now in Aerospace Engineering, with plans of getting a Ph.D. So you want to tell me she isn’t competent? I completed my Bachelor’s degree and will apply for law school. Do you think I’m not competent? I may be American, but my family and I are still people of Rajshahi. Do you think I or my cousin had extravagant tutors to help us along the way? We didn’t have rich parents to pay for us to attend elite universities. We didn’t go to school and get educated so our parents can brag about our accomplishments and marry us into wealthy families. Our worth isn’t just based on the man we marry.

We don’t need a rich family to feel validated and respected. We are competent whole beings all on our own.” The look on her face was a look I was all too familiar with. It was a, “Oh this American **t*h think she can run her mouth and say whatever she wants because she’s American. Who the **** does she think she is?”

She shortly left. My aunt whose daughter I spoke about said “Shata (nickname of mine used by family) I didn’t know you had such pride about being from Rajshahi.” I smiled and said “We’re no less than her. She has money and runs her mouth. Someone needs to tell her take her head out of her a*s once in a while.” Waheda

2. My Daughter Didn’t Let Her Awful Prof Talk Her Down And Squash Her Dreams

“This is my daughter’s story really … a bit of back story first …

We live in an area in the UK that still has the 11+, or Kent Test as it is now known.

If you pa*s, you go to a Grammar school, if you fail you go to a High School. She missed a pa*sing grade by 2 points … if she had taken it two years earlier when her brother did the way it was marked back then would mean she would have pa*sed with the same amount of points … we tried to appeal but her headmaster was new, didn’t really know what he was doing and it became too late to do so and she went to a local girl’s high school.

She did amazingly well at her high school, she was in the top sets for most subjects and when she left she had passed all her GCSE’s including 2 B’s in Maths because she took the exam early and they put her in for the higher paper and she got the same result in that too.

She also left with a double A in Science – the only pupil to ever do so in the history of the school at the time.

Now, this school had more of a reputation for its amount of teenage pregnancies locally than it academic capabilities …

So, my daughter wanted to be a vet, she knew it would be hard work but applied to go to 6th form at a local Grammar school, knowing she could get in with her GCSE grades. We went to visit on an open day and spoke to one of the teachers.

As soon as she told him which school she was from he got snotty and when she said she wanted to be a vet he went into a huge long speech about how hard she might find it to get the grades she needed and that she would need to be completely committed etc as if the school she had been to meant she was incapable of any of these.

Still, she didn’t let him put her off, she was accepted and went for the two years. BUT she hated every minute, she felt like she was looked down upon by both teachers and other students because of the previous school she had attended and failed her A-Levels badly.

BUT she didn’t let it destroy her, she enrolled in the local college where she took Psychology and Science, which for the life of me I can’t remember the exact title.

While there she applied to the local university to do Biology. She was accepted with an unconditional place based on her GCSE results before she had even received her results for college meaning she had a place no matter what they were. She passed them with flying colors including a double distinction in the science subject because she loved going to college and no-one judged her for the school she had been to before.

She did the 2 year Science course in 1 year.

Now, the university is an hour away by bus which she was fine about but apparently her main professor didn’t see it that way. When she went to her first meeting with him he spoke down to her.

Basically he told her that he didn’t know how she got a place there. We wondered if he only had her failed A level results and or based on the High School she attended – and that if she had to travel so far each time for lectures then maybe she wouldn’t bother and would end up dropping out and insinuated that maybe she should just not bother to try!

I kid you not.

But she proved him so so wrong, she passed with a 2nd, again missing the 1st by a few mere points which upset her but she did great, we are so proud of her and the fact that she never let those people judging her stop her getting her degree and can proudly put the letters BSc after her name of she wants.

If anyone tells me they are upset because their kid didn’t get into a Grammar school I tell them my daughters story – it doesn’t matter what school they go to (there are a couple of others with really terrible reputations locally) if they want to learn and achieve their goals and dreams they can no matter what anyone else thinks.” Diane

1. They Talked Down To Me In The Casinos So I Won Their Money

“I am a reformed hot head. I’m d**n near dainty next to what I used to be like. The condescending here-let-me-help-you-honeys used to make me insane.

Poker made it fun.

I lived in LA before poker was cool. Very few ladies at the tables, especially in Vegas. Every month, I would take $100 in my VW bug to the 4 Queens casino downtown to play the locals.

(For perspective, I’ll tell you the tank of gas to get there cost me 9 bucks.)

I was always in jeans and boots. They figured they better show me how to play so I didn’t screw up their game.

At first, it really p*ssed me off that all these men were gonna tell me how to play poker. Then I saw the beauty…

I started going in heels and a skirt…I even put makeup on (usually saved for weddings and funerals in those days) and curled my hair.

You wanna teach me how to play, buddy? Well, how downright gentlemanly of you!

Then I proceeded to work every dollar bill out of their pockets about 80 percent of the time. I paid my rent off of those games 10 out of 12 months a year till I was 23.

Oh yes please…enlighten me…

They would fold huge pots then ask me out…oh you’re sweet – thanks. But I’m taken…(by your supreme idiocy)

Taking their money home with me instead – won fair and square – was so much better than giving them h**l.”  Tracie

It’s not a smooth move to make assumptions about someone you don’t know! You could make a fool out of yourself and everyone knows that’s no fun.