Driving down a two lane road I saw a rusty old pickup coming toward me. As it got closer, I could see that there was a rebel flag mounted in the bed. Now this is in Colorado, and I am quite sure that in my 20+ years here, it is the first one I have seen. I was interested in seeing who might be driving this truck, and I looked over as it passed by - it was an enormous red faced woman with big hair, a bicep tattoo and a cigarette dangling from her mouth.
It was like someone was going to a Halloween party dressed as a redneck. The only thing missing from the picture was a can of Budweiser.
It’s long been my belief that stereotypical people are actually just better adjusted and adapted socially then the rest of us.
Whether they’re any happier than the rest of us I can’t say. But I’m willing to bet they know they have a place in the world, and are in it. That’s something, at least.
We live near a roundabout, which, if you head east, connects right to a 405 southbound onramp.
This middle-aged Asian woman (she was one of those Generic Asians) in a SUV (of course) lurched past the roundabout, clearly confused about something. She spotted me and waved my SO and I over.
“How do I get onto the freeway?”
I point east, her left. The onramp is visible. So is at least one <-------405 sign. The drivers of the three other cars waiting to go around the roundabout sighed and rolled their eyes, but amazingly, none honked.
She lurched around the roundabout and turned east toward the onramp.
I called after her, “Stop living up to the stereotypes!”
Yeah, ummmm, see, uhhh… the thing about stereotypes… they generally come from somewhere. I see them all the time. Jews complaining (esp. about money and their health), gays lisping, Mexicans driving classic Chevys, Mormons having huge families, obese people eating junk food… yeah. Shrug.
I used to live across the street from the ultimate gay male stereotype.
He was a big dude with a big bushy beard. His house was immaculately decorated. He owned a little yappy dog that was named Precious. He constantly went antiquing (and may have been in the antique business). He drank margaritas with “the girls” of the neighborhood in the middle of the afternoon. He was ridiculously close to his mother. He spoke with a lisp. And his speech was peppered with words like “fabulous” and “super” and “to die for”.
He was very nice and a good neighbor, but a hack writer couldn’t have created a more stereotypical person.
Oh lord Justin that’s awesome.
One time when I was in NYC, I got accosted by a Mormon. Then two seconds later I got accosted by one of those deaf peddlars selling ASL cards.
I’m pretty much a lesbian stereotype. Fell in love with my best friend at an all girls camp (and I’ve found out through Facebook that there were EIGHT of us from second month alone who turned out to be not exactly straight. Must have been something in the water. Either that or Karen and Gretta the lesbian couple who worked there, were recruiting)
I love the Indigo Girls, am a folkie, activist and feminist.
My mother and father still live in a small redneck town where I grew up. When I come over to visit I can’t help but take a jab or two at the town. I’m not mean about it and my parents usually laugh and nod in agreement about my latest observation.
The last time I came over I noticed that my father had put two plastic deer on the side lawn. (ok, my parents kind of fit in with the towns overall theme) I just had to comment to my mom about this and said “well, at least dad didn’t put pink flamingos in the front yard”. Mom looks at me and just burst out laughing and points across the road to their new neighbors house.
Sure enough, two pink flamingos right in the front yard. I swear to God.
Not too long after that, dad removed the plastic deer.
When driving to work with my wife, we spotted a guy sitting in a sort of niche under a bridge who looked thike the absolute prototype of a “bum”. He was dressed in rags and sitting on a beat-up old sleeping bag, with a hat in front of him for (rare) passers-by to toss in change. He sorta look like he belonged there - the niche fit him perfectly and he looked quite content and happy, living under a bridge.
My wife quipped “well, looks like he found his niche in life”.
Also, be careful. I was out canoeing in the middle of nowhere in Alabama, and I ran across a guy in a johnboat. NASCAR t-shirt. Mossy Oak hat. Sitting on a cooler in the boat. Rifle across lap, fishing pole in hand. Reeked of beer. Tattoos and a super-thick drawl. Ugly old hound in the boat with him.
Redneck stereotype?
No, he turned out to be a rather brilliant and legendary scientist. Fascinating guy.
One day while driving down the highway I saw a beautiful expensive convertible sports car driving with the top down going 10 km/h under the speed limit with a balding older man driving, and the turning signal left on.
