In the Village: You Ain't From 'Round Here, Are Ya?
Here's a reason I suspect I will never get to like nor understand Seattle.
Yesterday, in my local supermarket, the cashier, a perfectly nice and polite woman apparently either just near, or in, her sixties, happened to notice my driver's license in my wallet. "Wow, what kind of license is that?" I haven't bothered to get it changed yet.
"It's an Illinois license," I said. "I came from Chicago."
"What brought you here?" she asked as she brushed the groceries, one by one, across the laser.
"Oh, personal reasons, and I didn't care for Chicago that much."
"Yeah, everyone wants to move here. Tell you though. I'll be honest," she said, still just as friendly and polite in her expression, in her cadences, "we don't care much for the newer people here." Like this somehow didn't include present company. Perhaps I'm one of the "good" ones?
Well, that's what I'd suspected all along, but it was interesting to hear it said so frankly. "Is that a fact?"
"Well, it used to be a much better city before all these new people moved in."
I was feeling both clarity and offense. But I kept half-smiling as I gathered up my bags. "Well," I couldn't help saying, "I doubt I've
caused the problem."
"Oh, I don't mean any offense. Just being honest." She smiled, handed me my receipt, and honestly wished me a good day.
With such honesty and unintended offense, I can't imagine why
I would feel unwelcome here in the Village
Labels: bastards, seattle, the Village