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 
This kind of thing is so easy to do. I feel for you.
LikeLike
I’ve been there, done that. They probably knew that the dirty look was due to their unusual reading material, so I wouldn’t worry. 🙂
And I know what you mean about wearing your political affiliations on your sleeve, I’ve been told I dress like a leftie as well.
LikeLike
A plumber once walked into my house, looked around at the art, and said: “You are obviously a Democrat.”
LikeLike
🙂 🙂 Hilarious. But I know what you mean.
LikeLike
They look somewhat scared by my very obvious and very sudden mood swings,(Clarissa)
Serious? lmao. It must be because of your Autistic physiology or something like that. Mood swings, ya gotta love it. 😉
I think I know a woman who has some of those on occasion, love her dearly I do. 🙂
LikeLike
The ideology of clothes. You posted something on that a couple of years ago, right?
Because of my appearance there are many places (coffee shops, bars, restaurants) where I feel unwelcome in my SLAC rural town.
LikeLike
Yeah, I can see how you would fail to blend in. 🙂 We have a very well-dressed department but the town itself is not great in that regard. St. Louis is not a city of fashion either. 😦
LikeLike
A good American friend of mine told me when she visited Montreal that, according to their clothes, 40yo and above American women where much more apologetic about their sexuality than 40yo and above Montreal women.
Sorry about all these Montreal-centric replies. I am going to back to work in the US next week and I DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE MY DEAR TOWN!
LikeLike
“A good American friend of mine told me when she visited Montreal that, according to their clothes, 40yo and above American women where much more apologetic about their sexuality than 40yo and above Montreal women.”
– She is being too polite. 🙂 American women over 40 (at least in this area) often like to pretend that sexuality does not exist on their planet. 🙂
“I am going to back to work in the US next week and I DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE MY DEAR TOWN!”
– Oh, that must suck. Stay strong, my friend!!
LikeLike
Coming of age story: the literary nerd that I was in High School felt pretty alone and marginalized, but I did not care much fortunately. When I started CEGEP in a literature program, on the first day of class, I opened a book a start reading in the classroom before the professor arrives. Then I realized that I was surrounded by young people doing exactly the same thing as I did, glancing at each other and smiling. Then I realized that I belonged to a certain community and I felt so good.
Of course 15 minutes later I found out that girls in my programme were reading La reine Margot and Ann Rice… That was 1996.
I was reading a novel you dislike on that day, War and Peace, in its original French version:)
LikeLike