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aruanNow, I was going to hold off on seeing Matrix Reloaded for a bit, but then my stepfather's friend's (our neighbor) son called and asked would I like to go tonight if I didn't already have plans. We've met briefly before - he's the same year in college though I didn't know much else but I said sure, sounds like a good time.
And it was.
Except for the part where people stared at us more than when I was the preppy chic chick dating the punky goth guy in high school. Why, you ask?
Because I'm white, and he's black.
In *this* town, South Florida for those who weren't aware, where everyone is from everywhere and there's not really such a thing as an ethnic majority. Black, white, and hispanic alike, *everyone* from teenagers to grown adults openly stared at us the whole time we were walking past, even with the obviously 'just friends' distance between us. He's an arty, easygoing guy, smart and funny and loves music and the first "new" person I've met in a long time whom I'd like to see again, yet nobody cared to see that! Nobody cared to see that I, too, am all of the above and obviously enjoying myself, either. God only knows what they were thinking but all I could see in their faces was disbelief and, quite unsettlingly, disgust.
I just. Grr. So ready to ask what they're looking at and kick their asses if they answered wrong on a few occasions. Our showtime wasn't for another three hours so we drove across town to this lovely little jazz club with live music and even there! I was honestly shocked the whole night through, though I don't know if he noticed and we didn't discuss it. Am I naive to not even notice the skin color/religion/ethnicity thing? Am I rare to simply adjust to the accents I hear, ensure that I know the customs if I'm invited to a family dinner, not care where people come from because I hold everyone to my own set of simple, universal standards like wittiness, intelligence, and companionability?
Sigh. I should know better than to be surprised at any of what happened tonight. Just, these *aren't* issues in my world. I have to remember that I live in everyone else's as well, though.
Movie was even better the second time around. O'Hara is the jazz club on Hollywood Boulevard just before Young Circle Park. I'm going to drink some chocolate milk and try not to get a headache from all this crap.
And it was.
Except for the part where people stared at us more than when I was the preppy chic chick dating the punky goth guy in high school. Why, you ask?
Because I'm white, and he's black.
In *this* town, South Florida for those who weren't aware, where everyone is from everywhere and there's not really such a thing as an ethnic majority. Black, white, and hispanic alike, *everyone* from teenagers to grown adults openly stared at us the whole time we were walking past, even with the obviously 'just friends' distance between us. He's an arty, easygoing guy, smart and funny and loves music and the first "new" person I've met in a long time whom I'd like to see again, yet nobody cared to see that! Nobody cared to see that I, too, am all of the above and obviously enjoying myself, either. God only knows what they were thinking but all I could see in their faces was disbelief and, quite unsettlingly, disgust.
I just. Grr. So ready to ask what they're looking at and kick their asses if they answered wrong on a few occasions. Our showtime wasn't for another three hours so we drove across town to this lovely little jazz club with live music and even there! I was honestly shocked the whole night through, though I don't know if he noticed and we didn't discuss it. Am I naive to not even notice the skin color/religion/ethnicity thing? Am I rare to simply adjust to the accents I hear, ensure that I know the customs if I'm invited to a family dinner, not care where people come from because I hold everyone to my own set of simple, universal standards like wittiness, intelligence, and companionability?
Sigh. I should know better than to be surprised at any of what happened tonight. Just, these *aren't* issues in my world. I have to remember that I live in everyone else's as well, though.
Movie was even better the second time around. O'Hara is the jazz club on Hollywood Boulevard just before Young Circle Park. I'm going to drink some chocolate milk and try not to get a headache from all this crap.
