Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable in this small town that I reside in. Although most of the time, I think it’s just me. Over the past few years I’ve become a bit paranoid and feel sometimes that pairs of eyes are trying to get a hold of me. Now it doesn’t help here that South Carolina is a conservative red state and that from time to time I’ve seen a confederate flag hanging over the balcony of the apartment across the parking lot from me. Nor does it help that at one time my office was so charged politically that I called in sick the day after President Obama was elected. Still despite all of this, I have felt relatively safe in my surroundings, albeit a bit uncomfortable. But tonight I experienced something so unsettling that I’m just not sure how I should label it.
Lately it seems I’ve had a taste for barbeque. A few weeks ago I was intrigued by a quick conversation on identity with the cashier in the drive-thru at Jim N-Nick’s BBQ and today, I decided to visit a new barbeque restaurant, one that I read about in one of the local magazines. I had seen the advertisement for the Original Bluffton BBQ in The Bluffton Breeze magazine. And because I wanted to find out if they were any good, I got online and found a few articles, giving them rave reviews. I was pretty impressed with what was said, and I eagerly looked forward to trying their pulled pork sandwich with their special sauce.
Now after a day of anticipation, I finally made it to the joint around 7:30 and put in my order for takeout. The cashier was a middle aged lady and seemed genuinely nice and hospitable and even a bit interested when she asked and I told her my name. They take your first name, so to call you when your order is ready. Since it was going to take about ten minutes, I decided to take a seat in one of the booths in the dining area. Before I sat down, as I was turning away from the counter, I noticed a stack of bumper stickers out of the corner of my eye. The stickers read… Tea Party Patriots.
Quickly I grabbed a past issue of The Bluffton Breeze and tried to avert my eyes away from the Tea Party flyers. As I sat down I did a complete 360 of the room. There was a big anti-government poster on the wall next to me. And in the center of the dining room section there were two separate couples seated and enjoying their meals and chatting eagerly away, but when I sat down to the left of them, their conversations dwindled to nothing and within minutes they all were finished with their meals and saying goodbye.
I started flipping through the magazine and while I waited, a lone man came into the restaurant, ordered his food, picked up a Tea Party flyer and sat not too far away from me. I think he was fascinated by my hands, because I felt him staring at them as I nervously but quietly tapped them to the beat of the country music blaring out of the plasma TV above me.
Before my order was ready, I noticed the cook lean out of his window and say something to the cashier and glance over at me. The cook looked to be a guy in his mid thirties with shoulder length blonde hair and a smirk for a smile. After making eye contact with the cook, I decided to pick up that Tea Party flyer, and when it was announced that my order was ready, I asked the cashier if she minded if I grabbed one of the bumper stickers.
With a look of surprise, she said she did not mind at all. With a drawn out thank you, I grabbed my food and headed out the door to my car. As I started the car, I noticed the cook in his white apron step outside and speak to a family passing by on their way to the café next door. I can’t say for sure why the cook stepped outside, just after I got my order to go. Maybe he was ready for a brief break, or maybe that was his way of saying… “Girl, we don’t want you back here no more.”
When I got back to my apartment, I thoroughly inspected my meal. Everything seemed in place and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I paid for it, and I ate it, and hopefully the meal is safe. I will not be going back to the Bluffton BBQ, because I did not feel welcomed there and I wish I was braver, because if I was, I would be checking out this Tea Party party, just to see what they have to say and so that I could write about it in my blog the very next day.
Lately it seems I’ve had a taste for barbeque. A few weeks ago I was intrigued by a quick conversation on identity with the cashier in the drive-thru at Jim N-Nick’s BBQ and today, I decided to visit a new barbeque restaurant, one that I read about in one of the local magazines. I had seen the advertisement for the Original Bluffton BBQ in The Bluffton Breeze magazine. And because I wanted to find out if they were any good, I got online and found a few articles, giving them rave reviews. I was pretty impressed with what was said, and I eagerly looked forward to trying their pulled pork sandwich with their special sauce.
Now after a day of anticipation, I finally made it to the joint around 7:30 and put in my order for takeout. The cashier was a middle aged lady and seemed genuinely nice and hospitable and even a bit interested when she asked and I told her my name. They take your first name, so to call you when your order is ready. Since it was going to take about ten minutes, I decided to take a seat in one of the booths in the dining area. Before I sat down, as I was turning away from the counter, I noticed a stack of bumper stickers out of the corner of my eye. The stickers read… Tea Party Patriots.
After a quick glance, I fully turned and noticed a magazine rack next to the main door with current and past issues of The Bluffton Breeze and to the right of the magazine rack was a stack of flyers advertising a gathering of the Tea Party on Tax Day.
Quickly I grabbed a past issue of The Bluffton Breeze and tried to avert my eyes away from the Tea Party flyers. As I sat down I did a complete 360 of the room. There was a big anti-government poster on the wall next to me. And in the center of the dining room section there were two separate couples seated and enjoying their meals and chatting eagerly away, but when I sat down to the left of them, their conversations dwindled to nothing and within minutes they all were finished with their meals and saying goodbye.
I started flipping through the magazine and while I waited, a lone man came into the restaurant, ordered his food, picked up a Tea Party flyer and sat not too far away from me. I think he was fascinated by my hands, because I felt him staring at them as I nervously but quietly tapped them to the beat of the country music blaring out of the plasma TV above me.
Before my order was ready, I noticed the cook lean out of his window and say something to the cashier and glance over at me. The cook looked to be a guy in his mid thirties with shoulder length blonde hair and a smirk for a smile. After making eye contact with the cook, I decided to pick up that Tea Party flyer, and when it was announced that my order was ready, I asked the cashier if she minded if I grabbed one of the bumper stickers.
With a look of surprise, she said she did not mind at all. With a drawn out thank you, I grabbed my food and headed out the door to my car. As I started the car, I noticed the cook in his white apron step outside and speak to a family passing by on their way to the café next door. I can’t say for sure why the cook stepped outside, just after I got my order to go. Maybe he was ready for a brief break, or maybe that was his way of saying… “Girl, we don’t want you back here no more.”
When I got back to my apartment, I thoroughly inspected my meal. Everything seemed in place and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I paid for it, and I ate it, and hopefully the meal is safe. I will not be going back to the Bluffton BBQ, because I did not feel welcomed there and I wish I was braver, because if I was, I would be checking out this Tea Party party, just to see what they have to say and so that I could write about it in my blog the very next day.
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