Sure Know How To Picket

(As a kid my family had gotten lost in a rather undeveloped area while on vacation. Needing directions, my dad resolves to ask the first available person for directions back to the main highway. I am mortified and scared when the first available people turn out to be workers picketing while on strike outside a paper mill, who are energetically shouting and ranting against the management.)

Crowd: *as our car pulls up* “SCABS! SCABS! SCABS! SCABS!”

(My dad pulls to a stop and rolls down his window, revealing a family of four with two children in the car.)

Dad: “Hi. Can you tell me how to get back to the highway?”

(The crowd’s demeanor changes like a switch has been flipped, all smiles.)

Man In Crowd: “Oh, yeah. You just—” *gives directions*

Dad: “Thanks. Good luck!”

Man In Crowd: “You, too!”

(My dad rolls up the window and begins to pull away and the switch seems to flip again in the crowd as they resume their fiery chants.)