Human natures never-ending game
We took the train to Chicago one Thursday to spend the weekend.
Friday morning, I left the hotel and walked down Michigan Ave for breakfast. I walked into a restaurant to find two very long lines of people. I wasn't surprised, everything is bigger there.
When I got to the counter to place my order, the guy looked at my shirt, saw that I was the last one in line, and closed his register.
So, do I leave pissed off or go to the back of the remaining line of 10 or more people?
As I started to get angry with him, audibly, a fortunate thing occurred. Two older ladies who appeared to be sisters had witnessed this. They commented on my shirt and let me in front of them in line.
Wow! What a flip. They were alumni of our university. What luck. The older one said,"Wasn't that a great victory? Oh boy!"
Now cheerful, I answered, "Yes! The first National Championship in school history." I expressed my gratitude for their gracious act of a closer place in line.
I realized that I just experienced, for the first time, hateful prejudice.
The younger lady leaned in and whispered to me, " We're regulars here, I've seen him wear a shirt from the team we beat to win the trophy."
I turned and looked at her, "Oh, really, huh, now I get it."
I thanked them, and we went our separate ways. One turned back in parting and reassured me that there were many of our alumni in Chicago. She waved, turned, and walked away.
I felt better now. I shrugged off the negative and was happy.
All this happened because of my shirt.
And two immediate allies, perfect strangers.
After pondering over the event, I started to think. Did I just experience a feeling in a very small way what people like Jews and Palestinians feel every day? I received a petty gesture to raise my ire. A small yet bad taste of prejudice served personally. I had never felt so alone as at that moment when he closed his register in my face and said, "We are closing this line.".
We wore our team shirts every day and continued to have a wonderful weekend in Chicago. Where we were greeted and waved at often by alumni. One guy even helped my wife with her many bags on an escalator on our way back to the train station.
They all treated us differently because of our shirts. Amazed we were, to have experienced both sides of why strangers hate you or befriend you.
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In Review
Non-FictionWhat is "Life In Review"? Saga, song, sonnet, story, satire, summary, sorry situations, silly sort of stupid stuff, sense and non, poems, prose, anecdotes and dozy doats, and a possible personal blow or two. This book is a collection of writings, op...
