I’m boarding the plane, flying on a route that is very common for business people. I’ve flown several times, but always in Economy. For this flight, I was able to use some frequent flyer miles to upgrade to First/Business Class for my first time ever.

When I fly, I very much prefer to be comfortable rather than fashionable. This means lightweight sweatpants and a t-shirt or light sweatshirt. It’s all clean and in good condition, of course, but very casual.

When I get to my seat, another woman is already sitting there (Woman A), talking to the woman in the adjacent seat (Woman B). Both women are dressed in fancy business attire, and it’s clear that they’re friends or at least good acquaintances.

Me: “Excuse me, I think you’re in my seat.”

Woman A: (looking me up and down) “I don’t think so. The cheap seats are back there.”

Rather than argue with her, I find a flight attendant, who checks my ticket before going to speak with Woman A. After checking Woman A’s ticket, the flight attendant tells her that she is in the wrong seat and needs to move. After some discussion, Woman A finally shrieks.

Woman A: “How can this be his seat? He’s dressed like a homeless slob. This is BUSINESS class, for BUSINESS people!”

Flight Attendant: “Ma’am, how someone is dressed makes no difference to what ticket they’re allowed to buy. Now please move or I’ll have the pilot call police to have you escorted from the plane.”

Woman A finally moved, and after thanking the flight attendant, I sat down in my seat, with Woman B glaring at me the entire time. After the flight attendant left, Woman B addressed me in a quiet, goading tone, like she was daring me to respond.

Woman B: “I suppose you feel like a hero, stealing a Business Class ticket from someone who actually earned it?”

Me: (staring into her eyes and deadpan) “Not at all. Are you going to leave me alone, or do I need to complain to the flight attendant that you’re harassing me?”

Woman B looked completely gobsmacked, and I briefly thought she would try to call the flight attendant on me. But after a few seconds, she gave a dramatic huff and turned to stare out the window.

Woman B kept turning back to me every few minutes, as if daring me to say something. The first time, I took out an earbud and asked if she needed something, but she said no and turned back to the window. Finally, about half an hour after takeoff, she turned to me again and, with the same quiet, goading tone, asked a question.

Woman B: “Am I allowed to go to the bathroom, or is that only for slobs like you?”

Me: “Of course. Let me get out of your way.”

I stood up and stepped a few feet down the aisle to make room, and Woman B got out, continuing to watch me the entire time. When she got out of the bathroom, I stood up again and let her into her seat, and then sat down myself without saying a word or even hardly looking at her.

Ten minutes later, she “had to use the bathroom” again, and sensing that this would become a pattern, I decided to address it when she returned to her seat.

Me: “Would you like to change seats with me so I don’t have to let you out every time? We only have an hour left before we land, and I won’t need to use the bathroom in that time.”

Woman B glared at me before finally giving a huff and sitting back down in her window seat. She miraculously didn’t need to go to the bathroom again during the flight, and I proceeded to completely ignore her – earbuds in, music playing, eyes half closed – until we landed and were able to get off the plane.

Woman B waited for Woman A to catch up at the gate, and immediately began telling all sorts of stories about how I had “harassed her” constantly throughout the flight, and how I was making fun of her being “dressed like Business Barbie”.

I continued to completely ignore both women, chuckling to myself about how some people are just so determined to make their own lives as big a challenge as possible that they’ll lie through their teeth to people who will accept those lies as gospel truth.

I’ve occasionally flown First/Business Class a few times since this incident, but I’ve never encountered anyone else who had a problem with the way I was dressed.

Reading through the LGBTQ tagged stories reminded me of an encounter this year.
As a preface, I came out as transgender earlier this year, and despite not taking hormones, I already dress feminine on occasions.
My wife participated in a community dance project, and the premiere/finale of this happened to be on the same day as our local pride parade. To make things even more complicated, the pride parade happened in front of the city hall. Which was located next to our local theatre….where said dance premiere/finale would take place.

I was wearing what I thought was a tasteful combination of a blouse, a green vest, a black asymmetric skirt and black leggings underneath. <Knowing it was Pride month, I didn’t care too much. The parking garage was 100 feet away from the entrance of the theatre, plus, one more queer person wouldn’t bother anyone.

I exited the parking garage and made my way to the theatre, when immediately, I was intercepted by attendees of the pride parade.
They invited me to their little party corner, and complimented me for my fashion choices, and how wonderful it was that I found the courage despite this hateful political atmosphere.

The longer they talked, and the more they insisted I should join them on the parade, the more uncomfortable and defensive I got. Until one of them snapped:

Him: “So you are trans, but hate the LGBTQ community?”

Me: “Wha….no? What are you talking about.”

Him: “Listen, we only have today to openly celebrate, so we should do it. And we can’t stand false allies or homophobic and transphobic queers!”

Me: “I can see your poi…”

Him: “So either, you are joining us, or we will out you as <Right wing party> sympathizer, who is just as false and vile as <party leader who happens to be lesbian> who uses her lesbian relationship to bait queers into voting for them.”

Me: “Alright, darling….are you done?”

Him: “Wh…what?”

Me: “Great” <pulling out my theatre ticket> “Cause I have places to be, despite this awesome parade. Maybe if I feel like celebrating after the launch party, I will join you, but I doubt it, since my wife is disabled…” (Which is true, she is severely handicapped, this year was the first time a mixed-abled dance group was founded, and she happily applied) “… and needs to rest after being on stage for two hours, so I most likely will party a bit inside and afterwards drive her and myself home. So if you don’t mine, I would like to FINALLY go inside and take my seat.”

He profusely apologized and walked away.

(I was waiting to check out. At the front of the line I was in, there was a lady who had her daughter next to her, then there was an older man, then me.

The little girl was singing to herself while playing with an honest-to-god cat’s cradle, decorated with beads. She was barely audible over the general sounds of the store, but that was apparently too much for the old man.)

Old Man: Hey, you mind keeping your brat quiet? Not all of us want to be bothered while we’re shopping!

(The mother looks shocked, but before she can say anything, the girl speaks up.)

Girl: You shouldn’t be grumpy.

Old Man: What’d you say?!

Girl: Being grumpy is pointless, because you don’t have long to be happy.

(She then looked up from the game and stared him straight in the eye.)

Girl: When I’m grown up, I’ll be beautiful and happy, and you’ll be a corpse.

(And then she went right back to her game.

It was dead silent for half a moment, and then, the cashier, in what was definitely just supposed to be a thought, whispered.)

Cashier: Oooh, burn.

(The mother, old man, and me, all looked at the cashier, who turned beet red and scrambled to finish up the mother’s transaction. The whole thing finished in silence, other than the girl still quietly singing to herself, and then the old man’s transaction was also quiet until the end when he was taking his receipt.)

Old Man: *softly, while looking at nothing in particular* I need to rethink some things.

It was early on in the winter, and a sudden snow around rush hour had managed to slow the buses to a crawl. By the time I get on the bus, I’m crammed in the back of it, feeling very much like a sardine in a can. Next to me is a teenage girl who is looking increasingly worried as the bus starts it’s crawl to the next stop. I decided to be a little nosy in case there was something I could help with.

She was jittery, even while talking to me, but it became clear that she was very worried about not being able to reach her parents to explain why she was already a little late coming home. Her cell phone had run out of battery, so I offered to let her use my cell phone to call her parents. I got to hear her nervously explaining how slow the bus was going and that she was actually on the way home. She thanked me profusely for helping her call home.

I asked her how many stops she had left to go, and when it was her turn to get off, I did my best job projecting my voice and hollered up a storm. I made it very loudly clear that a child needed to get off the bus so she could go home to her worried parents and kept that up for the good five odd minutes it took before the bus doors finally closed and we moved on its way again.

When life gives you the ability to raise your voice, use it for good.

I was a teenager, when the 80’s were fading into the 90’s, and I used to play competitive table tennis in a team. During the season we would often travel to relatively remote towns for our matches, and we often had gems like the following.

We had just finished our match and, before driving back home, we decided we wanted to drink something. So, out of the school gym were we played, we went in the only bar available in the small town square. The barman was an old man.

We teenagers all ordered sodas, while the only adult, [Coach], with us asked for a sport drink:
[Coach]: For me a Gatorade, please.
[Barman]: We don’t have that beer, we have only [Beer brand 1], [Beer brand 2] or [Beer brand 3].
[Coach]: No sorry, I don’t want a beer. I want a Gatorade.
[Barman]: Again, we don’t have that beer, we have only [Beer brand 1], [Beer brand 2] or [Beer brand 3].
[Coach]: But those are beers, I didn’t ask for a beer. I want a Gatorade!
[Barman]: Are you deaf?! We don’t have that beer, we have only [Beer brand 1], [Beer brand 2] or [Beer brand 3].
[Coach], defeated, ordered a soda.

When we went back to the car, we were glad it was there and not replaced by an ox drawn cart.