I Beg Your Pardon?

Transcript of a conversation I had with a Sweet Old Lady today at work. For this to make sense, you need to know when I get tired, my voice gets hoarse at odd moments. Sort of like a teenage boy going through the Change but without the squeaks. Today, I was tired:

Me: *sets plate of food in front of SOL* Here's your chicken pot pie. Do you need anything else right now?

Sweet Old Lady: Oh, thank you. Actually, I want to ask you a question.

Me: Sure.

Sweet Old Lady: How many times do you get mistaken for a man?

Me: *blinks for a second in silence* Um ... I don't understand.

Not So Sweet Old Lady: A man, dear. Someone of the masculine persuasion.

Me: I know what a man is.

Crossing A Line Old Lady: So? How many times?

Me: Never. *wants to ask how many times old lady gets mistaken for a jackass but really good insults are wasted on the mostly deaf*

Dancing A Jig On My Last Nerve Old Lady: Never? Oh, I can't believe that.

Me: *speaks through gritted teeth* Really? Why is that? I look like a man to you?

About To Meet Her Maker Old Lady: Of course not, dear. A man has much stronger shoulders.

Me: How comforting.

As Good As Dead Old Lady: But, you have a very masculine name, dear. I'm sure people mistake you for a man all the time.

Me: *tries to understand the logic* So ... you think C.J. is masculine?

Devil's Handmaiden Old Lady: Well, dear. If you want to be feminine, you must not use initials.

Me: So the fact that I don't LOOK like a man or SOUND like a man wouldn't clear up the confusion?

The Witch: Oh, well, dear. I wouldn't say you don't sound like a man.

Me: You caught me. I'm C.J. Monday-Thursday but on the weekends I'm known simply as Fred.