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Perhaps this Makes Me a Dick...
Nov. 27th, 2017 04:20 pm...but during lunch I walked by a sports bar in the midst of shutting down for good. And cha know what? I laughed to myself. And laughed and laughed and laughed some more.
Know why?
Their clientele--'specially those who'd sit in their outdoor area--were consistently and almost without question the BIGGEST bunch of loudmouthed, racist, white trash shitbags ever assembled south of Anoka County. They'd talk shit about me that I'd ignore while walking by. Somehow, some way I was s'posed to be poor and a panhandler and homeless and beneath them (and uhm NO not really in this or any other alternate universe). One woman even went on a loud, long, slightly slurred rant about 'Yeah RIGHT in a fuckin Polo and Dockers and' YES, THAT'S RIGHT BITCH YOU'RE NOT IN MY N-WORD TAX BRACKET SO FUCKING DEAL WITH IT, YOU'RE THE POOR ONE TODAY. YES YOU.
Anyway, fuck their business, fuck their now-former grubby customers, double-fuck the fuckin sports team they'd go to watch afer getting uglier drunk on your turpentine-on-tap and you can alLLLLll go straight to--
Did I mention there was another kinda sorta sports bar place directly across the not-even-as-wide-as-a-city-street that I never had problems with? Honestly. Go figure.
Know why?
Their clientele--'specially those who'd sit in their outdoor area--were consistently and almost without question the BIGGEST bunch of loudmouthed, racist, white trash shitbags ever assembled south of Anoka County. They'd talk shit about me that I'd ignore while walking by. Somehow, some way I was s'posed to be poor and a panhandler and homeless and beneath them (and uhm NO not really in this or any other alternate universe). One woman even went on a loud, long, slightly slurred rant about 'Yeah RIGHT in a fuckin Polo and Dockers and' YES, THAT'S RIGHT BITCH YOU'RE NOT IN MY N-WORD TAX BRACKET SO FUCKING DEAL WITH IT, YOU'RE THE POOR ONE TODAY. YES YOU.
Anyway, fuck their business, fuck their now-former grubby customers, double-fuck the fuckin sports team they'd go to watch afer getting uglier drunk on your turpentine-on-tap and you can alLLLLll go straight to--
Did I mention there was another kinda sorta sports bar place directly across the not-even-as-wide-as-a-city-street that I never had problems with? Honestly. Go figure.
