"It's the Republicans"
I strolled into some overpriced “tavern”
downtown in my pajamas. I sat down next
to a dude sporting a Northface sweater-vest, reminding me of Rick Santorum, the
Mongoloid, god-fearing Christian crusader.
Incidentally and accidentally I rolled my eyes. The gentleman looked me up and down for a
second, and to his credit wasn’t overly condescending about it. He turned back to a conversation he was
having with his two friends.
“So you got a Forrester?” the farthest one to my right said. “That’s a neat car, I’m told.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard good things about Subaru,” the one in the middle commented. “I’m thinking about getting one. What’s the stat? After ten years…”
“Yeah,” the Santorum guy said. “After ten years ninety percent are still on the road.”
“How’s the gas mileage?” the middle guy asked.
“You know, for a mid-sized SUV it gets pretty good mileage. It’s not a Tesla or a Prius or anything, but I like to think I’m doing my part to combat Climate Change.”
I raised my hand wildly to get the attention of the bartender. She came over and I ordered a 9%. The Red Label was wearing off.
“Oh, yes,” the one on the right said. “Climate change is the biggest threat to the human race. My daughter really looks up to Greta Thunberg.”
“I would have gotten a Prius,” the middle guy added, acknowledging the Climate Change propaganda, “but I think the Forrester says more about my personality, you know? Just because I make a decent living doesn’t mean I don’t like to do outdoorsy stuff. You know – kayaking, mountain biking. And I feel like I’m doing my part on the Climate front. Sometimes I ride my bike to work.”
“Same here,” the Santorum guy said. “I ride my bike twice a week.”
I couldn’t stand it and blurted out, “I used to ride my bike to work every day 45 minutes across town because I was too poor to afford a car. But you know, now that I have my Civic, I still walk to the bar to get a drink. Climate Change and all.”
I guess they sensed my sarcasm about Climate Change because they all began to talk at once.
The Santorum guy lost it and practically started yelling:
“Look buddy, I know what you see when you look at us. You see a bunch of sell-out Gen-X yuppie tech guys. You think we’re the problem, that we’re the reason people are shitting on the street in San Francisco. You look at us and see three guys who went to Georgetown and you’re envious and you think that we grew up in affluent white neighborhoods, and while there may be some truth to that, I personally had two black friends in college. My best friend in high school was Asian. And I understand, you millenials got a raw deal. But one day, when you’re older, you’ll see that it wasn’t us. We didn’t fuck things up. We’re not the ones trying to stack the Supreme Court with right-wingers hell bent on overturning Roe v. Wade. We’re not the ones trying to pull the troops out of Syria, we’re not the ones who want to abandon the Kurds. Just because we have money doesn’t mean that we don’t understand that health care is a right and that college should free for everyone. Just because we had opportunities doesn’t mean we’re not trying to make the world a better place, and for your generation as well. We understand not everyone grew up with the same privileges we had. I support raising taxes. I want to help people.”
“Yeah,” the middle guy added. “It’s the Republicans who are the problem. Every Thanksgiving I get in an argument with my father-in-law because he votes GOP.”
“We’re good guys,” the Santorum guy started. “We all voted for Obama. We’re not part of the problem.”
They went back to talking about Subaru.
“Yeah, the Forrester would be a good choice,” the Santorum guy said. “I like the name for sentimental reasons. The first time my wife and I made love was in the woods. We bonded over hiking.”
“What position did you do it in?” the guy on the end joked.
They all laughed and I stared into my beer.
“Obama voted to fund the Iraq war every time Bush asked for the money,” I said and stood up. “I’m half Iraqi. My uncle and aunt died because of the bombings.”
I turned around and left half my beer sitting on the bar. I walked to the liquor store and got a half pint. I chugged it when I got home and passed out.
“So you got a Forrester?” the farthest one to my right said. “That’s a neat car, I’m told.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard good things about Subaru,” the one in the middle commented. “I’m thinking about getting one. What’s the stat? After ten years…”
“Yeah,” the Santorum guy said. “After ten years ninety percent are still on the road.”
“How’s the gas mileage?” the middle guy asked.
“You know, for a mid-sized SUV it gets pretty good mileage. It’s not a Tesla or a Prius or anything, but I like to think I’m doing my part to combat Climate Change.”
I raised my hand wildly to get the attention of the bartender. She came over and I ordered a 9%. The Red Label was wearing off.
“Oh, yes,” the one on the right said. “Climate change is the biggest threat to the human race. My daughter really looks up to Greta Thunberg.”
“I would have gotten a Prius,” the middle guy added, acknowledging the Climate Change propaganda, “but I think the Forrester says more about my personality, you know? Just because I make a decent living doesn’t mean I don’t like to do outdoorsy stuff. You know – kayaking, mountain biking. And I feel like I’m doing my part on the Climate front. Sometimes I ride my bike to work.”
“Same here,” the Santorum guy said. “I ride my bike twice a week.”
I couldn’t stand it and blurted out, “I used to ride my bike to work every day 45 minutes across town because I was too poor to afford a car. But you know, now that I have my Civic, I still walk to the bar to get a drink. Climate Change and all.”
I guess they sensed my sarcasm about Climate Change because they all began to talk at once.
The Santorum guy lost it and practically started yelling:
“Look buddy, I know what you see when you look at us. You see a bunch of sell-out Gen-X yuppie tech guys. You think we’re the problem, that we’re the reason people are shitting on the street in San Francisco. You look at us and see three guys who went to Georgetown and you’re envious and you think that we grew up in affluent white neighborhoods, and while there may be some truth to that, I personally had two black friends in college. My best friend in high school was Asian. And I understand, you millenials got a raw deal. But one day, when you’re older, you’ll see that it wasn’t us. We didn’t fuck things up. We’re not the ones trying to stack the Supreme Court with right-wingers hell bent on overturning Roe v. Wade. We’re not the ones trying to pull the troops out of Syria, we’re not the ones who want to abandon the Kurds. Just because we have money doesn’t mean that we don’t understand that health care is a right and that college should free for everyone. Just because we had opportunities doesn’t mean we’re not trying to make the world a better place, and for your generation as well. We understand not everyone grew up with the same privileges we had. I support raising taxes. I want to help people.”
“Yeah,” the middle guy added. “It’s the Republicans who are the problem. Every Thanksgiving I get in an argument with my father-in-law because he votes GOP.”
“We’re good guys,” the Santorum guy started. “We all voted for Obama. We’re not part of the problem.”
They went back to talking about Subaru.
“Yeah, the Forrester would be a good choice,” the Santorum guy said. “I like the name for sentimental reasons. The first time my wife and I made love was in the woods. We bonded over hiking.”
“What position did you do it in?” the guy on the end joked.
They all laughed and I stared into my beer.
“Obama voted to fund the Iraq war every time Bush asked for the money,” I said and stood up. “I’m half Iraqi. My uncle and aunt died because of the bombings.”
I turned around and left half my beer sitting on the bar. I walked to the liquor store and got a half pint. I chugged it when I got home and passed out.
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