Sunday, 1 April 2012

A first time I could have done without

It's been a hot day in a busy, dusty town. We're all desperate for a cool drink before dinner and, as luck would have it, there are quite a few decent caf├ęs nearby. The three of us find a table in the shade and wait for a waiter or waitress to take our order. Nothing happens.

We are being ignored completely. Nobody so much as glances at us, except a man who looks like a tramp but is probably the owner, from his demeanour. From where I am sitting I can see him talking to the barman, who is giving us some very nasty looks. We're not going to get served.

Fine, we'll pass it on. We know quite a few people in town, funnily enough. We find a small fast-food restaurant where the friendly, hard-working Muslim staff are quite happy to serve Anne-Marie, who has only just started transition and doesn't pass well at all.

She's used to it, poor soul. It's the first time in my whole life I have seen vicious small-minded bigotry at work. I think what made it worse is that they can't have missed her collecting funds for AIDS research in the square outside throughout the entire afternoon.

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