Brakes squealed on the street net to where we walked. I glanced over to watch a car jam in front of another to reach a parking spot.
“Asshole.” It slipped out unconsciously.
The client walking next to me, a middle aged man with a problem he determined I could solve during one just completed lunch meeting, responded, “I just love red heads. Such fiery tempers. That’s why I hired you on the spot. With hair the color of yours, I knew you had what it took to get the job done.”
If I didn’t need the money, I would have called him an asshole, too. Instead, I made a mental note to check the bathroom trash at home to retrieve the box of hair dye.
– – – – – – – –
We define ourselves to differentiate, then expect society to change. I live and work in an industry where the freedom of speech can be a death sentence and the invisibility of the virtual world comes with a magnifying glass.