I (Heart) The Man.
I think of myself as a socially liberal person. I recycle. I believe in protecting the environment, I vote Democrat and I'm anti-capital punishment.
Then I hang around a bunch of activist types.
Her: Maybe we should save this piece of paper, even though it has writing on it.
Me(thinking): What? Why do we need to save it.
Me(speaking): Oh?
Her: Yeah, because we could use it again. I don't just want to throw it away.
Me(thinking): Are you kidding me? Throw that thing away. Why would anyone want to save it?
Me(speaking): Oh, right. Well, I think we could probably throw it away.
Him: So, you know, we need to avoid Starbucks.
Me (thinking): Wait, why again?
Him: Because we need buy locally and everything. We hate them the way we hate Walmart.
Me: Oh, right. I hate Walmart.
Me (thinking): Yum! I so want a chai creme frappucino right now.
So, yeah. I've totally sold out. Even though I've never been a radical. Never had a vegetarian phase. Never gone without shaving my legs (except at college, in winter, when everyone sort of gave up because our legs were covered from October to May). I wear bras and makeup and uncomfortable high heels. I commute 20 miles to work every day. And I write advertising, for heaven's sake. Me and The Man are like lovers now.
If I'd grown up in the 60s, I would have been anti-war, but wouldn't have gone to protests because "we might get in trouble." But tonight I was talking about an upcoming protest with a bunch of radical-ish people, and I was getting a little excited. Hearing everyone talk about it enthusiastically . . . well, it was catching. And of course the possible confrontation with police (even though it's going to be peaceful, you never know), made me want to participate. Did you know that you write the emergency contact phone number in marker on your arm? I like learning protest tricks.
But this protest is at 5:30 on a work day, so I'd just be finishing my commute. I'd be tired, and I wouldn't want to fight the traffic and the crowd. And I can't confront police. What if I got shipped off to jail or something? On a Wednesday night? I don't have time for that. I've got to work the next day.
Then I hang around a bunch of activist types.
Her: Maybe we should save this piece of paper, even though it has writing on it.
Me(thinking): What? Why do we need to save it.
Me(speaking): Oh?
Her: Yeah, because we could use it again. I don't just want to throw it away.
Me(thinking): Are you kidding me? Throw that thing away. Why would anyone want to save it?
Me(speaking): Oh, right. Well, I think we could probably throw it away.
Him: So, you know, we need to avoid Starbucks.
Me (thinking): Wait, why again?
Him: Because we need buy locally and everything. We hate them the way we hate Walmart.
Me: Oh, right. I hate Walmart.
Me (thinking): Yum! I so want a chai creme frappucino right now.
So, yeah. I've totally sold out. Even though I've never been a radical. Never had a vegetarian phase. Never gone without shaving my legs (except at college, in winter, when everyone sort of gave up because our legs were covered from October to May). I wear bras and makeup and uncomfortable high heels. I commute 20 miles to work every day. And I write advertising, for heaven's sake. Me and The Man are like lovers now.
If I'd grown up in the 60s, I would have been anti-war, but wouldn't have gone to protests because "we might get in trouble." But tonight I was talking about an upcoming protest with a bunch of radical-ish people, and I was getting a little excited. Hearing everyone talk about it enthusiastically . . . well, it was catching. And of course the possible confrontation with police (even though it's going to be peaceful, you never know), made me want to participate. Did you know that you write the emergency contact phone number in marker on your arm? I like learning protest tricks.
But this protest is at 5:30 on a work day, so I'd just be finishing my commute. I'd be tired, and I wouldn't want to fight the traffic and the crowd. And I can't confront police. What if I got shipped off to jail or something? On a Wednesday night? I don't have time for that. I've got to work the next day.
posted by Melanie at 10:50 PM
