It all started Sunday evening, when I had yet another one of those aggravating experiences. An aggravating experience that had to take place while my blood sugar was low and my tolerance for intolerance was high. You see, Mother and I were headed out to have a little dinner at Kobe Japanese Steakhouse. (Hey, I was desperate. This is Omaha, and there aren't that many Japanese restaurants). Unbeknownst to Mother and Yours Truly, we quickly discovered that despite other people coming and going (some with doggy bags), they don't serve Negroes. (As Bette Midler said in The Rose, "That's just fine, because we don't eat 'em...). Hey, maybe they have a Jim Crow policy. Or maybe it's just another West Omaha thang. Still hungry, after being told we'd have a lengthy wait (although there was no one waiting, and there were only two of us), I did an abrupt about face and left, instructing Mother I'd pull up to the curb to pick her up. I could have stayed and argued, but the food isn't worth it. Why not simply go to another place that is wiling to take our money? So we did. It was totally déclassé (i.e. trashy), but at least they didn't trump up some transparent reasons to run us out.
"Los Nebraskans"
Annoyed but resigned to the ignorance of the local farm trash, I attended a local SnB at a yarn store with whom I've done business for some time. In fact, others all over North America may have as well, because they have a thriving online business. The owners are pleasant and very friendly. One of them had even invited me to come knit with them, November last. So, imagine my surprise and dismay at discovering how decidedly "icky" the small group of knitters were...one actually apologizing to the owner out loud, in front of everyone, for having invited "other people". (What a wonderful way to make me feel welcome!) The bitch did not appear to be kidding. At all. (Oh wow, you mean this shit is restricted? Why didn't you just say so! (I could've assembled an angry mob and we could just come back later to fire-bomb the joint!) Or maybe it's just personal. (We don't really know each other--she's a clerk at a bookstore café where I knit). In all seriousness, I realize that ill-timed comment wasn't the opinion of the owners, because if it were, I'd do no business with them, at all. Ever. However that, combined with the decidedly chilly reception I got from most of the regulars communicated one message loud and clear:
these assholes aren't good enough to knit with Me.
That's basically the attitude I hold toward anyone who wants to act a fool in my presence. And if they don't like it? They can simply bite me.
Can you dig it? (I knew that you could)...
One more thing...Click Here. Check out the picture at the bottom of the page. It's real, I swear. I couldn't possibly make this shit up.
8 comments:
for goodness sakes, you've got to get yourself back here. can't you figure out this Teleporting business yet ? ?
we're even having an Olympic knit together at the St-Viateur on avenue Monkland this week. thursday, 7p.m.
D, please come back to Montreal soon!
Omaha is bad for the soul, and apparently the soul sisters (I'm just too white to spell that word any other way) too.
We will have a hot beverage in your honour tonight.
M.A.
I only have one thing to say...come back as soon as you can! This totally sucks and yeah...boooooo them they're just not good enough anyways!
Just awful that this stuff still goes on. When I tell people that in middle school I was spit on and told to go back to my own country (My family has been in the US since before the Civil War so I'm as American as can be but I have Asian features) they always assume I grew up in another state, but this happened in southern California. Makes me so darn mad that people can be so ignorant/racist and insensitive.
But luckily I think those people are in the minority and most people understand that people are people and everyone deserves to be treated like a human being.
*hug*
Just read you blog. Had to double check to make we were still in the 21st century...
Too funny! Unfortunately, I know all too well what you are going through. I have had similar experiences in my life at certain venues. I wrote a blog entry about one of KC's Local Yarn Stores wondering if it was racism or just snobbery why they didn't acknowledge me when I was browsing. Fortunately, my experience at Urban Art + Craft today restored my faith in the LYS.
By the way, how did you end up in Omaha?
It's a long, sad, tragic story of caregiving, being-an-only-child, and time travel. It includes me 'trying to do the right thing' while aggravating the living hell out of my high blood pressure.
That, and my ancestors obviously have dreadful navagating skills.
I hate it when all that happens.
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