A few weeks ago, a couple of my friends and I were out at a lounge discussing the meaning of life, shoes and all that important stuff. DJ, Best Friend and I noticed an obviously gay man checking us out from a distance. He was leaning against the bar and blatantly starring at us, occasionally exchanging candid whispers with his friend.
When I went up to the bar to get a drink, the gay dude tapped me on my shoulder,
“Excuse me, can I ask you a question?”
I glared at him, giving him the it-better-be-good-or-I’m-leaving look.
“So this might sound weird, but can I ask you what you do for a living?” he implored.
“Aaaaand why do you want to know?” I asked with suspicion.
“Well, you see, I have this talent for guessing people’s professions just by judging them on their looks, and my friend and I wanted to know if I was right about you and your friends.”
Oh. This was going to be pure gold - I could already feel that. I needed to hear what the guy had to say.
“Okay, so what do you think we all do?”
“Well,” he began, pointing his finger in a direction of DJ, “He probably works as a graphic designer.”
I was impressed. He actually got that one right.
“Okay, okay…” I was interested in what he had to say about Best Friend, “Go on.”
“She is a secretary,” he said, referring to Best Friend who was too busy taking shots to notice that our conversation was revolving around her now.
Very close. She’s an administrative assistant. Just another technical term for secretary.
“What about me?” I was very curious now.
He eyed me up and down, as if to double check his preconceived notions and said, with much certainty in his voice, “You look like you work at Abercrombie&Fitch.”
“I am an architect, sweetheart,” I rolled my eyes and grabbed my drink, getting ready to get back to my friends.
“No way. Really?”
“Yeah… looks like your talent is not a talent after all,” I smirked, masking my disappointment.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with working at Abercrombie&Fitch. Hollister, PacSun or any other surf-themed shops, but you can’t deny that there are certain stereotypes of people who work in those stores. For guys, it’s blonde-haired, blue-eyed Adonises who are more concerned with spending time at the beach or working on their already chiseled abs at the gym. For girls, it’s (again) blonde-haired airheads with seashell necklaces, dark tans and perfectly manicured nails. Not exactly, an image of an intellectual elite.
But hey, it goes to show that it’s never a good idea to judge a book by its cover. For all that I know, those faithful surf shop employees could very well turn out to be the future leaders of our country. Unlikely, I know, but not impossible.