I was on my way to pick up some fine foodstuffs for my hungry family (Free Happy Meal coupon FTW) and I watched a couple guys cross in front of my car. Youngish dudes. Shaved heads, t-shirts, jeans, one of them had a camo pullover. Oooh, a tattoo on the camo guy's neck, what is it, get a little closer to the headlights....
It was a swastika.
Without even thinking I made the kind of noise you make when you've stepped in some poop in an unexpected place, like the Vatican. Kind of a "Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhnnn!" 50% disgust and 50% pure disappointment. Then when I was done I found myself worrying that the guy heard me and would be offended. Can you believe that? I was worried about appearing judgmental to a stranger with a swastika on his neck. How the hell would such a conversation go?
"For all you know I'm a very nice person!"
"For all YOU know, I'm Jewish"
"I have pride in my race!"
"Mazel Tov!"
"Hey didn't your mom ever teach you not to judge a book by it's cover?!"
"Only if the book ISN'T Mein Kampf!"
On the other hand, if by some slim chance he did hear me, and assumed it was due to his particular bodily adornments, maybe he's just the sort of shy nazi who was glad somebody noticed him. Maybe he's still trudging along Grant Road happy that his investment of $5 and bootleg Skrewdriver concert DVD's worth of tattoo managed to elicit any response at all. It might be too much to hope for he said "L'Chaim" under his breath, though that would've made it perfect.
Trudge on Timothy McVeigh, bless your little racist heart.
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