I was recently chatting with a friend of mine, an Air Force captain stationed in the UK. Up until a few months ago, he and I had never discussed politics, but I had always (rightly) assumed that he was a Democrat. After all, he is extremely intelligent and well-educated (not to mention black and from the hood.)
Here’s the horrifying part: he thought that I was a Republican!
Not since I was mistaken for a boy when I was five years old have I been more insulted.
And then I had a frightening thought: Why wouldn’t he think that? To be honest, I “look” like a Republican. My hair and makeup is always neatly done, I have a penchant for buying expensive clothing and I am married to a military officer. Add the fact that my father drinks Budweiser from the can and raised me at country clubs in a red state, and it would appear that there would be no hope of my becoming even slightly left-leaning. If it hadn’t been for my hippie mother, all hope for me would have been lost.
We can usually tell, you know? We can tell by the way people dress, the cars they drive, their professions, their hobbies. Think about this: when was the last time you saw a “W” sticker on a Subaru with a roof rack, or a guy in a North Face jacket tossing his muddy mountain bike into the back of a Hummer?
What’s my point, you ask? Well, it’s not always obvious, and even if it seems to be, you may be wrong. For three years, Rhasaan had assumed that I was a Republican. He loved me despite that, but our friendship has been so much stronger since he figured me out.
The next time you spot a seemingly right-wing guy from Texas with a big ol’ cowboy hat and a pit bull, give him a chance. You never know: he might be on our side.
Unless there’s a Confederate flag in the back of his pickup. Sadly, there’s no hope for that guy.
Posted by RLKreuzer at 09:41 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
