One rarely gets the opportunity to speak exactly what is on their mind, exactly when it needs to be said.

So THIS happened…

I was standing in line at the market, minding my own business, when a voice behind me said “Are you a dyke?” The heads of the 15–20 people in line around us popped up from their phones like gophers, eyes and mouths agape.

I turned around to see a belligerent-faced soccer-mom type standing behind me.

Me: “Excuse me?”

Lady: “I said, are you a dyke.”

Me: “Are you asking me if I’m a lesbian?”

Lady: “Yeah.”

Me: “…Why?”

Lady: “Well, you have all those tattoos on your neck and your head is shaved.”

Me (thoughtfully, while running my hand over my fuzzy scalp): “Oh, yeah, that. Well, not that anyone’s sexual orientation is anyone else’s business. But no, I’m not. I’m a cancer survivor… And you’re an asshole. (smile) Have a nice day.”

And I turned back around to wait my turn in line.