Here’s the thing.

While I found the woman at Costco to be incredibly rude (but more than anything I still wish I had coughed up a good line while she was still in earshot, and that’s because I’m selfishly snarky. Kind of like my cat) I don’t take offense at the assumption. So she looked and thought that there stood one very gay woman. :::shrugs::: Doesn’t matter. I am so not the girly-girl that if I saw me standing somewhere I might think the same thing, but surely not in the same ill manner.

If I’d been standing there in a skin tight tank top with tattoos running from my shoulders to my wrists, I’m sure she would have had another assumption. Of if I’d stood there dressed in black, my face painted ghostly white, and thick black mascara lining my eyes, she might had assumed something entirely different. If I’d been there in a jogging suit, had long hair tied back into a pony tail, she probably would have thought “Soccer Mom.”

Yeah, that might have offended me…

We all make assumptions about people that we see. Most of the time it’s a random thought that zips through our head in less time than it takes to blink, and it’s gone before we can give it much thought. That’s just the way the human brain works. It’s not a crime.

But when those random assumptions are offered as judgment or if they devalue someone else, or they’re a sneer…I have a problem with that. I don’t care that the woman in Costco assumed something about my orientation; I do care that she made it sound creepy or dirty, I care that to her who someone is deep down is fodder for her contempt and ill humor.

You’re not going to hurt me by calling me a dyke, but if you say it like you were looking at dog crap stuck to the bottom of your shoe, you’re certainly going to make me wonder about your upbringing.

Think about it. You see a kid hanging on the corner, baseball cap turned sideways, jeans slung down around his ass, what do you think? Moron? Idiot? Gang-banger? Or just “Damn, son, pull your pants up!

You’re surely going to think something. But what that something is…like it or not it can define you.

Call me a dyke, fine. Even if you’re mistaken, having the thought is perfectly human. But how you twist that thought, well…

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