Poobeard McGee (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mikeylove) wrote,@ 2002-10-21 03:23:00 |
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soul doubt..?
i'm feeling kinda weird right now. drove out to LA tonight so that celeste could change her bus ticket back home to a departure time tomorrow night. that issue got worked out with no problems, save a $9 fee for the original ticket cancellation.
the parking lot at the station is of the standard take-a-ticket-pay-as-you-leave variety. there's someone in the booth waiting to take your ticket who will inform you of how much you owe for the time that they graciously allowed you to park in their lot. this also at first was no problem.
usually i'm only at the terminal for a short amount of time, either dropping off or picking up celeste, so my parking is free (under 30 minutes, no payment required). when i hand my ticket over and learn (at the same time as the attendant) that i owe no money, we usually exchange a few kind words. i don't mind this at all and try to participate in this friendly exchange. often times i look forward to it, as even just a shred of positivity experienced at the greyhound station goes a long way.
tonight was much different. the first words exchanged were the common "hey, how's it goin?" "fine, how are you?" from there, it got a little more spicy.
attendant: "did that thing in your nose hurt?"
me: "a little, yes. no biggie though, it was worth it." [i smile at this point - i don't mind when people ask me about the septum piercing]
attendant: "how does your soul feel?"
me: "umm...well, my soul cried out in joyous celebration with the whole matter."
attendant: "you can't hear your soul."
me: "i can't hear my soul..?"
attendant: "you wanna know why?"
me: "sure, why?"
attendant: "because your soul is dead."
...definitely not the sort of thing i'd expect to be told by a greyhound bus lines parking lot attendant. i wasn't mad, i wasn't upset...i didn't really know how to feel. it was just a strange thing to have told to me. that comment was the first negative reaction i've gotten from this piercing.
i felt sorry for the guy - and not in the pompous i'm-so-much-better-off-and-not-nearly-as-i
part of me was insulted, i suppose. i haven't been pierced up for all that long, but one of my motivations for having holes in my face is to help people understand that just because i *look* a certain way, it doesn't mean that i necessarily *am* a certain way. the hurt from tonight i think comes from being judged in such a nonchalant manner. this man felt that it was within his jurisdiction to declare my soul as being dead. he came to this conclusion based solely upon a piece of metal that runs through the middle of my nose.
it was eye-opening though...as i sit here and write this, i've just realized that this must be at least somewhat what it feels like to experience discrimination and hatred based on race (or sexuality, clothing choice, etc.). it's different in that i can of course control how i look, but the part about unfounded conclusions based on inapplicable criteria holds true, methinks.
i'm feeling kinda weird right now. drove out to LA tonight so that celeste could change her bus ticket back home to a departure time tomorrow night. that issue got worked out with no problems, save a $9 fee for the original ticket cancellation.
the parking lot at the station is of the standard take-a-ticket-pay-as-you-leave variety. there's someone in the booth waiting to take your ticket who will inform you of how much you owe for the time that they graciously allowed you to park in their lot. this also at first was no problem.
usually i'm only at the terminal for a short amount of time, either dropping off or picking up celeste, so my parking is free (under 30 minutes, no payment required). when i hand my ticket over and learn (at the same time as the attendant) that i owe no money, we usually exchange a few kind words. i don't mind this at all and try to participate in this friendly exchange. often times i look forward to it, as even just a shred of positivity experienced at the greyhound station goes a long way.
tonight was much different. the first words exchanged were the common "hey, how's it goin?" "fine, how are you?" from there, it got a little more spicy.
attendant: "did that thing in your nose hurt?"
me: "a little, yes. no biggie though, it was worth it." [i smile at this point - i don't mind when people ask me about the septum piercing]
attendant: "how does your soul feel?"
me: "umm...well, my soul cried out in joyous celebration with the whole matter."
attendant: "you can't hear your soul."
me: "i can't hear my soul..?"
attendant: "you wanna know why?"
me: "sure, why?"
attendant: "because your soul is dead."
...definitely not the sort of thing i'd expect to be told by a greyhound bus lines parking lot attendant. i wasn't mad, i wasn't upset...i didn't really know how to feel. it was just a strange thing to have told to me. that comment was the first negative reaction i've gotten from this piercing.
i felt sorry for the guy - and not in the pompous i'm-so-much-better-off-and-not-nearly-as-i
part of me was insulted, i suppose. i haven't been pierced up for all that long, but one of my motivations for having holes in my face is to help people understand that just because i *look* a certain way, it doesn't mean that i necessarily *am* a certain way. the hurt from tonight i think comes from being judged in such a nonchalant manner. this man felt that it was within his jurisdiction to declare my soul as being dead. he came to this conclusion based solely upon a piece of metal that runs through the middle of my nose.
it was eye-opening though...as i sit here and write this, i've just realized that this must be at least somewhat what it feels like to experience discrimination and hatred based on race (or sexuality, clothing choice, etc.). it's different in that i can of course control how i look, but the part about unfounded conclusions based on inapplicable criteria holds true, methinks.
