Cause I'm a blonde.

Hello, my name is Simone and I'm a blonde.



It's not all fairy floss and glitter you know.



I've never enjoyed being blonde.

I've never enjoyed the attention or the assumptions.

As soon as I reached an age where I was able to, I hid it.

Better red than dead. That's right isn't it?



But after 5 years of dyeing my hair to avoid dealing with it, it finally dawned on me that I'd prefer to be able to identify those who judge others on appearance rather than merit, quickly and easily. To screen the calls as it were.

And what better way for me to flush them out than to just give in and be blonde?

Really, really blonde.



But today, something else occurred to me. Something that really should have occurred to me much sooner.

Sadly though, it's taken me almost 40 years to understand this point, which in retrospect, makes me feel a little dim. Blonde even. ;O)



I'd had glimpses of this ugliness quite a few times before, but I'd never seen it for what it truly was.



This morning at work, an old lady sidled up to me (bigots always sidle) and told me how glad she was that she was going to die soon.

Of course, this struck me as a fairly interesting thing to say.

Her reasoning was that the world was fast becoming so awful, that she was relieved she wasn't going to have to watch much more of it.



Now, this didn't throw me at all.



I'm always interested to hear from that generation, they've seen plenty during their tenure.

By and large I love old people. I have an enormous amount of respect for them.



I'm sure you all know people who are naturally good with children, well I'm certainly not, but I am naturally gifted at dealing with older people.



So, a statement like that didn't provoke from me the typical response of, "Oh, no, you don't mean that," or whatever it is that people say when they're being bland (not blonde) and polite.

I was interested in getting her to expand on her theory and perhaps compare her experiences of our history with the way we live now.



And sadly for me, she did just that.

She went on to explain to me that she now had to catch the bus with "licorice all-sorts" and that it should be illegal for Lebanese (they're all crooks you know) and Asians to have "so many children".



I'm sorry I asked.

Old folks today, huh? Tsk, tsk.

Pity you can't put a young head on old shoulders.



Well, so now I finally get to the point I keep trying to dodge.

The unnerving truth is this.



Bigots assume that I'm one of them.



They take one look at me and trust that whatever ghastly beliefs they hold dear, that I too am inherently capable of such viciousness of mind.



Isn't that great?



So, apart from my unfortunate colouring giving ugly false impressions as to my intellect and chastity, I now discover that even my morals are brought into question.

Not by anyone who counts perhaps, but still...

I'd never added this up. I just thought I attracted the loons. derrrrrrrrrrrr



And you know what I thought at the end of this very disappointing, yet illuminating exchange?

I thought, "I'm glad you're going to die soon too."

You and all those like you.

Every one of your miserable generation who has never allowed experience to temper bias and who know less about tolerance than a child who has done just 2o minutes in a playgroup sand pit.



As shocking as this encounter was for me, at the end of it I really felt uplifted by the thought that really, things can only get better.



So, I'm now thinking maybe black hair or even a veil may be of benefit as rudimentary bigot repellent.