Being a member of yet another subset (big ol’ hairy, biker lookin’ dudes) I’ve been dealing with this kind of stereotype crap for years.
One of my personal favorites is the young mother, with daughters.
“…Janey, stay away from THAT man, you don’t know WHAT he might do to you!”
Thus, sending the idiocy on to one more generation. It’s gotten weirder since I started carrying daily. Now the mothers of the world think I’ll shoot their kids, THEN rape or eat them.
I was actually dumb enough a few years ago to tell these (idiot) mothers that I have children, and grandchildren AND that I sometimes help my wife with her Sunday School Class.
“YOU go to CHURCH!!!”
(I might add for the tally books, when I put on my Santa Hat after Thanksgiving…there is NONE of that. Mothers send there kids right to talk to ‘Santa’ It’s weird, but evidently John Wayne Gacy was RIGHT)
In the 70’s my folks had an Italian dinner house in Tacoma. One day some bikers came by and all the waitresses got nervous and went into the kitchen to confer with my mother. She said “just serve them and I’ll be watching if we need to call the police.”
They turned out to be great regular customers, good tippers, they brought friends and got along well with our other regulars (the lunch crowd included many office and government workers. All seemed to enjoy our Dean Martin, Sinatra and other Italian music.)
Growing up I thought it was natural to be served by lots of pretty girls. It’s good to be the owners son.
Being a member of yet another subset (big ol’ hairy, biker lookin’ dudes) I’ve been dealing with this kind of stereotype crap for years.
One of my personal favorites is the young mother, with daughters.
“…Janey, stay away from THAT man, you don’t know WHAT he might do to you!”
Thus, sending the idiocy on to one more generation. It’s gotten weirder since I started carrying daily. Now the mothers of the world think I’ll shoot their kids, THEN rape or eat them.
I was actually dumb enough a few years ago to tell these (idiot) mothers that I have children, and grandchildren AND that I sometimes help my wife with her Sunday School Class.
“YOU go to CHURCH!!!”
(I might add for the tally books, when I put on my Santa Hat after Thanksgiving…there is NONE of that. Mothers send there kids right to talk to ‘Santa’ It’s weird, but evidently John Wayne Gacy was RIGHT)
In the 70’s my folks had an Italian dinner house in Tacoma. One day some bikers came by and all the waitresses got nervous and went into the kitchen to confer with my mother. She said “just serve them and I’ll be watching if we need to call the police.”
They turned out to be great regular customers, good tippers, they brought friends and got along well with our other regulars (the lunch crowd included many office and government workers. All seemed to enjoy our Dean Martin, Sinatra and other Italian music.)
Growing up I thought it was natural to be served by lots of pretty girls. It’s good to be the owners son.