I experienced a stereotype!
Jan. 31st, 2005 10:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zesty_pintoI should feel bad about seeing this, but what I saw only embarrassed me and explained why I had to deal with people going "simple language" on me. Tonight when I went to pick up a new monthly train pass I ended up waiting on a line where this asian woman rushed up to me and asked, in a loud voice,
"Are you chinese?"
I blink at first because this is out of nowhere and she is LOUD when she says it. I was standing up reading up on the transformation of children's literature. It's like if someone just stepped out of your bathroom, sat down on your couch and then said, "I see you switched to Ex-Lax today!" You get it? It just doesn't happen! I reply,
"What?"
She tries again in that same loud garishly asian-toned voice.
"Are you chinese?"
I shake my head but she doesn't seem to register this, so I go,
"No."
"Oh. Are you Korean?"
See, I could understand the first question since it was for some reason that seemed obvious (language problems) but what was with the second question? Was she going to map my genetic heritage or something?!
"No."
"Oh."
-and then she cuts me in the line.
What happens next makes me regret ever wanting to become a ticket agent.
"When is the next train to New York?"
"7:59."
"What is the next train?"
"7:59."
"What time is it?"
The lady behind the booth points at the clock on the opposite wall. The lady attempts to look at the wall but doesn't seem to see it or try hard enough to look at it (I think it's the latter since she only gives a glance at the wall).
"What time is it?"
"It's on the other side of the wall."
"7:59," the guy behind me says to her.
"When's the next train?"
"7:59," the lady behind the booth says. Already the frustration is building.
"When's the next train?"
"7:59."
"What time is it?"
"7:46," I say.
"What time is it?" She didn't hear me.
"7:46," I say again.
"What time is it?" She still didn't hear me and she's two feet away.
"7:46!" I yell.
"Okay, how long till next train?"
"...in a couple of minutes."
"Okay, how much for ticket to New York?"
"One way or round trip?"
"How much is one-way?"
"8.50," the teller replies with some relief in her voice. I'm still waiting for the other booth to open up.
"How much?"
"8.50."
"How much is round trip?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve what?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve dollars and what cents?"
"No cents! Twelve dollars and no cents."
"Oh... One way to New York, please."
"Are you chinese?"
I blink at first because this is out of nowhere and she is LOUD when she says it. I was standing up reading up on the transformation of children's literature. It's like if someone just stepped out of your bathroom, sat down on your couch and then said, "I see you switched to Ex-Lax today!" You get it? It just doesn't happen! I reply,
"What?"
She tries again in that same loud garishly asian-toned voice.
"Are you chinese?"
I shake my head but she doesn't seem to register this, so I go,
"No."
"Oh. Are you Korean?"
See, I could understand the first question since it was for some reason that seemed obvious (language problems) but what was with the second question? Was she going to map my genetic heritage or something?!
"No."
"Oh."
-and then she cuts me in the line.
What happens next makes me regret ever wanting to become a ticket agent.
"When is the next train to New York?"
"7:59."
"What is the next train?"
"7:59."
"What time is it?"
The lady behind the booth points at the clock on the opposite wall. The lady attempts to look at the wall but doesn't seem to see it or try hard enough to look at it (I think it's the latter since she only gives a glance at the wall).
"What time is it?"
"It's on the other side of the wall."
"7:59," the guy behind me says to her.
"When's the next train?"
"7:59," the lady behind the booth says. Already the frustration is building.
"When's the next train?"
"7:59."
"What time is it?"
"7:46," I say.
"What time is it?" She didn't hear me.
"7:46," I say again.
"What time is it?" She still didn't hear me and she's two feet away.
"7:46!" I yell.
"Okay, how long till next train?"
"...in a couple of minutes."
"Okay, how much for ticket to New York?"
"One way or round trip?"
"How much is one-way?"
"8.50," the teller replies with some relief in her voice. I'm still waiting for the other booth to open up.
"How much?"
"8.50."
"How much is round trip?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve what?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve dollars and what cents?"
"No cents! Twelve dollars and no cents."
"Oh... One way to New York, please."
