Don’t You Love Living In Unprecedented Times?
I’m stopping into a supermarket when I notice a large RV literally covered with posters and banners for a particular political figure, selling such merchandise. The only physical parts of the vehicle I can see are the windshield, wheels, and door seams. I’m really hoping they at least expose the lights when driving! I’m not a fan of this candidate, nor his frankly cultish following — see above “vehicle covered in posters of the guy’s face” — so I give them a wide berth.
One guy with a pickup truck apparently notices this.
Guy: “HEY!”
Me: *Still walking* “Hey.”
Guy: “You a patriot?”
Me: “Yep.”
Guy: “You love this country, right?!”
Me: “Mostly.”
Guy: “Then you doin’ the right thing and voting, yeah?!”
Me: “Yep.”
I’m now slightly past him… and he huffs and puffs his way back in front of me to try to block my movement.
Guy: “You’re voting the patriotic way, right?!”
I stop. I look back at his truck. I look back at him. NORMALLY, I try to live by the motto, “Don’t mess with me and I won’t mess with you.” But this guy’s favored politician and his entire political party have made “mess with you” their campaign focus, and now this guy is DIRECTLY messing with me, so I can’t help but bite the bait.
Me: “So, you’re a patriot, too?”
Guy: “Of course!”
Me: “And you show it off, yeah?”
Guy: “OBVIOUSLY!”
Me: “Well, let’s see. You’ve got two flags with a guy’s name on it and what years he was running for office. You’ve got one flag that’s for an army of a failed rebellion against this country. You’ve got a fourth flag that has the implied message of ‘I support the police being able to shoot Black people on sight.’ And the entire tailgate on your otherwise spotless truck is covered in bumper stickers talking about what parts of the population you wish you were able to shoot. So, what country are you patriotic for, exactly?”
His face is now redder than his hat, I can see veins bulging on his forehead, and he’s breathing through clenched teeth so hard there’s spit foaming around his lips. I’m fairly certain that the fact that I’m saying all this calmly and objectively is just getting him angrier.
Me: “I hope you vote for the candidate that you think will help the most people in this country. I know I will. Or… are you going to punch me for exercising my First Amendment rights, the same way you’re freely exercising yours with all that stuff on your truck?”
Realizing I probably pushed one button too many, I quickly make my way around him toward the store before he can make that decision. But as a final parting shot:
Truck Guy: “F****** COMMUNIST!”
Me: “I’m literally going to a store to buy stuff — capitalism, baby!”
Thankfully, he was gone by the time I got out, and he hadn’t tracked down my car to do anything to it. I really can’t wait for this election to be over… as well as the inevitable fallout of it, one way or the other.
