I'm a ragtop man. I don't have one presently, but that does not change my status as a ragtop man. Last week, with the temperature having peaked at 41 F and heading down, I saw a guy driving his Chevy Cavalier convertible with the top down. I tended to push it temperature-wise a little in favor of open motoring, but I think this guy was way over the edge. There was a slight drizzle, and the roads were salty wet. To each his own.
Last Friday, I went down to the West Side Market to one of the cheese stands and asked for a hunk of Parmeggiano Reggiano about that thick, indicating with my thumb and forefinger. The lady frowned and looked up, shaking her head a little, as if something up near the ceiling three stories above was going to smite me for my insolence or stupidity. She pointed out to me that it was going to cost a lot.
What did she mean by that? Was she making some kind of judgment about my net worth, deciding by the looks of me what I could afford and what I couldn't afford? Did I look like a food-buying newbie? So, I asked her what she meant by "a lot," to which she replied, "Twenty-five dollars."
All I could muster in response was a disappointing, "No problem," when I could have thrown out a zinger of a response; after all, she deserved it. But I didn't say anything else, except to thank her when I handed her a 20-dollar bill because it came to only $19. I could have said something snide to her at that point about her gross miscalculation, but I didn't.
I pondered earlier today about this seemingly uncharacteristic behavior, the almost zen-like understanding of the foibles of guy in the convertible and the woman behind the counter and the Buddha-like forgiveness of each. Could it be that I was approaching a higher level of enlightenment; and if that is presumptuous of me, and I believe it might be, then was I finally reaching adulthood?
I'm writing this, revealing my innermost thoughts and baring my soul, and I can see you out there, in my mind's eye, snickering at me or maybe just amusedly smiling, thinking about where the punchline might be. Admit it. You don't expect this kind of serious analysis from the right side of the screen (well, my left side, looking out, as it were; your right side). From Stacey, yeah, you’d expect that wisdom and contemplation, but not from me. Right? And who could blame you? Not me, for sure.
There is that point, then, where adulthood sets in, with all its benefits and the lack of the confining parameters that are the bane of childhood and adolescence.
I hesitate to say that I've reached that point because I had the almost uncontrollable urge to smash into the back of the fucking Hummer with the red, white, and blue flag-waving "W '04" fuck sticker and yellow "Support the Troops" ribbon that sat at the red light just in front of the white Beetle with the black “The Who” sticker and peace symbol on the back bumper. Mother-fucker ... just when I thought I had reached adulthood ...
Posted by Bill at January 7, 2005 06:41 PMOh my, your selling out!
I hate when people judge whether I look like I can afford something. I have that a lot though, I do live in redneck country!
Anytime I am behind a vehicle with the big "W 04" sticker on it, my right foot gets twitchy too!
Posted by: Cowtown Pattie at January 7, 2005 10:14 PMNah, I'm not snickering. I know that you have Deep Thoughts...or at least a deep thought...every now and again....at LEAST once a year.
Heh. ;-)
(and i've had it both ways- people thinking I could afford more because of my last name, and a salesclerk looking at me in jeans and a tee as if the only way i was going to afford the item on the counter was if i stole it. strangely enough, neither one of those perceptions have ever had anything to do with my financial reality. c'est la vie.)
Posted by: lucy at January 8, 2005 12:41 AMOK, to start with, I think having the top down in 61 degrees is pushing it. The Good Lord made it cool outside for a reason--to tell us to go inside. That's why we have houses and hummers. Hummers are OK, as long as there's no "W" sticker and they aren't that disgusting school bus yellow and the bitchy woman at my urchins' school doesn't drive it. My Tahoe is better, though, because I drive it and it pisses off all my in-laws. Not because it uses too much fossil fuel (that's my public-private--don't ask--sin), but because it shoves the fact that we support ourselves and our children in their faces. I am not a nice person. I know that and by the time I am sixty I hope to have made peace with that. By the time I am 80, I hope, like my grandmother before me, to revel in the fact.
Posted by: TW at January 8, 2005 01:32 AMI fucking hate it when people behind the counter make comments to me about how much the stuff I am buying costs.
I hate it.
I admire your zen cool.
Posted by: jen at January 8, 2005 01:59 AMKeith would agree with TW about some of that in-law reasoning with his Land Cruiser. I'm sure that had something to do with his purchase.
My foot also gets extremely twitchy whenever I see the W stickers. REALLY twitchy. Keli's too. She points them out to me now. Like I need any help from her.
And about the whole salesclerks and shopping thing? There's another time they can really be assholes. When they judge you based on your weight. I walked into the juniors department to find a pair of jeans a few kajillion years ago. I asked about a certain brand. I had just started dating Keith. I think I was about 12 and weighed a few pounds too many, obviously. The clerk pointed down the aisle and said the Womens department was down that way.
Posted by: Keri at January 8, 2005 02:16 AMAnd you really suckered me in with the title. I thought we were going to talk about some culinary delights here. *gag* They do sell Deep Fried Snickers on a stick at the Minnesota State Fair.
Posted by: Keri at January 8, 2005 02:17 AMI don't know about where you guys live, but where I live you can just about bet any big, white (silver if German made) suv you meet will flash you a W and a Yellow when you look up into the rear view. But, maybe it's just a Georgia thang.
Posted by: Vicki at January 8, 2005 05:08 PMPlease don't grow up .....yet.
Posted by: Anji at January 11, 2005 07:56 AM