Just a few minutes ago I was in the grocery store, picking through fresh green beans, trying to ignore the two guys next to me who were dishing, loud, about New Orleans. The guys were probably in their 60’s. They were talking about how dumb it was to live 30 feet below sea level, about all the people that stayed despite warnings to leave. Then one of the men said,
“I don’t feel at all sorry for any of those people.”
So, I turned, without saying a word, and stared him straight in the face. He starts moving his cart toward me saying, “That’s right, I don’t feel sorry for any of them.”
I said, “I’ll bet you’re a conservative.” He’s right next to me at this point.
He says, “Yeah, I’m a conservative.”
I said, “And this is what you call compassion.” I turn and walk away.
He says to my departing back, “And I’ll bet you’re one of those bleeding heart liberals.”
At that point, still walking away, I give him the internationally known hand signal that we’re all familiar with. (Okay, I’m not exactly proud of doing that.) I walk up to my husband who is standing by the deli counter and tell him if he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s with me, he better leave the store now. Right away, Ken starts laughing and asks, “What did you do?” So I told him. He cracks up. We finish shopping and manage not to run into the guy again.
The deli/produce section was fairly crowded. I don’t know how many people overheard, and witnessed, the exchange.
This is rural red, folks.