Before reading this post, please remember that I’m under no obligation to share stories that make me look ridiculous. It is only because I can’t deprive my readers of an opportunity to have a good laugh that I do it, even when the laugh is on my account.
So yesterday I’m sitting at a coffee-shop in St. Louis and three older people (two men and a woman) walk in. They are in their sixties and they look very Liberal. I know you must wonder how one can look Liberal but, I swear to you, you’d identify them as card-carrying progressives, too. The clothes, the hair, the bags, the shoes, the beards on the men – all of it screamed that these folks had had a rolling good time in the sixties. Of course, as this group walks into the cafe, I greet it with a huge, happy smile. I can’t interpret facial expressions worth a damn but my own face is very easy to read. Every thought and emotion is written on it in huge letters that practically pulsate with neon.
So I beam at the older people who look pleased to be this liked and who smile back at me as they sit down at a table next to mine. And as they do so, I see that one of them is carrying a book by Ann Coulter. I immediately recognize my mistake and feel bad about having smiled at a group of Coulter fanatics who confuse innocent bystanders by looking Liberal.
Immediately, I drop the smile and start giving the group nasty stares. I don’t really control this. As I said, I have a very expressive face that believes its purpose in life is to show the world what I feel at any given moment.
The nasty looks I send to the fake Liberal group continue until the gentleman holding the Ann Coulter book shows it to the other two people and says, “It’s painful to read but you’ve got to know the enemy, right?”
This is where I realize that these people are, indeed, fellow progressives. So I stop giving them nasty looks and, again, beam a huge smile at them. They look somewhat scared by my very obvious and very sudden mood swings, get up and move away to the opposite side of the room. I remain in my seat, feeling horrible for having scared a group of peaceful older people.
Clarissa's Blog 
Leave a comment