Paranoia and creeps

I have two stories that I don't think I shared with many people...they come together but it's hard to tell one without the other. So it gets long. One is hard to tell because it's entirely offensive and the other is me losing my cool. And I don't lose my cool often so it burns me when I do. In any case, it's been nagging at me lately and it finally clicked last night that it's because Easter is coming and good Friday and the Monday after are when these stories happened...

So, part one:

A few years ago I volunteered at a food pantry three day a week after I was laid off. There were a dozen or so people that volunteered there but there was only an older couple and myself that were there every day.

Initially, the couple was incredibly friendly. And they remained friendly but they were also creepy and angry and paranoid. The sort of people that could have stepped into The Visit and pulled it off spectacularly.

They were always freaking out, for instance, that a couple of the ladies who did the paperwork when they were there would always come over and check.out what kind of food we were bagging up that day because it changed every day. And that couple would flip out. "I don't know why they don't trust us. We do everything by the book. I swear I'm gonna say something next time. They better learn to mind their own business. They keep looking over here." And of course because I was there everyday, I took the brunt of their nuttiness. A number of times I called the director of the program because I was concerned they were going to start snapping at people and hitting them with canned goods and milk.

Part two:

Good Friday blind date.

My friend will forever swear that she wasn't trying to play matchmaker. I will likely never believe her mostly because he fit into the same bizarre place most of my blind dates have. Completely unlikeable and, well, worse. At the very least, she was testing the waters hoping for a click.

She made dinner and had us over. He was 20 years older (or looked it), was in dirty sweatpants and ragged tee-shirt. Unshowered. Rude. Hillbilly know-it-all stupid. Judgey and racist. And that was my impression before he opened his mouth. I was shocked my friend, being who she is, could stand to be around him.

I ignored him as best I could through the evening.

Finally he looked at me and asked, "you a n+**&r lover?"

My jaw hit the floor. I'm certain my eyes must have been as big as saucers when I looked at my friend for who knows what. I could see she was a bit shocked too and that may have been why I finally found my voice.

I responded, "I tend to date men who don't offend me."

"Oh, well women who do their nails like you are usually into the blacks."

My natural nails. Painted a pastel orange. I thought it was kind of spring-y and easter-y.
But nope, apparently it was a warning bell to bigots that I might be into "the blacks".

He was arrested a few months later for crank calling 911 to report non-existent fires. And that is pretty much the mentality I expect from a bigot.

And the stories come together:

I was telling the people at the food pantry about it. The grandparents from The Visit were off doing their thing creating more paranoia for themselves because they actively avoided actually participating in a group conversation when they happened. But they would listen. And they would hear bits and pieces. And they would judge. And they decided that I was insulting the black guy we volunteered with. And I kept hearing them complain as we were talking.

I finally snapped. I looked over, raised my voice and told them, "nobody was forcing you to be here. You've excluded yourselves from every opportunity to get to know anyone. You actively dislike everyone. Go home. Go home and decide if you really want to deal with this"

Then I felt bad. Or scared. I mean, they lived on a farm... I could have been chopped up and fed to the animals. Or both...I probably felt both. Maybe a little shame, as well, for having lost my cool.

Anyway, the anniversary is coming and it's bugging me. Hopefully it'll pass on Tuesday.

And I'll offer two sound pieces of advice -

First, if you think you're walking into a set up and your first thought is "why would my friend think I'd be into a creepy, racist slob (there's probably some double standard in thinking some people look racist)?" do what you have to do to leave now. Shit your pants so they kick you out, grab the nearest knife and cut a finger off, or start snot crying and spew gibberish. Anything.

Second, if you're volunteering with people who are determined be be nasty even after the program director has tried to cool them, pull back. Reduce your own time there, find another opportunity, save your sanity. And your cool.