You’d never guess. So don’t.
We all do it. Even animals do it. It’s one way they survive. Animals don’t have nifty little sayings to guide them through life. “Don’t judge a book by its’ cover” is one of those worn out sayings that animals don’t have to endure. To be accurate, the saying is, “you can’t judge a book by its’ cover”. Why then, do we all do it?
Was it done 100 years ago? What about thousands of years ago before there were actually books? Do you think Wyat Earp could spot a bad guy as soon as he walked through those swinging saloon doors.
I can think of one good reason to make those quick judgements, safety. We develop fear, fight, and flight instincts throughout our lives that tell us instantly that we may be in the wrong place or near the wrong sort of people. This is a good thing most of the time. It can however limit our potential to experience new people places and things. (new nouns)
I was in Mexico with my wife and we were looking for a late night dinner. We had flown and bussed all day, paid way too much for everything and were ready to eat, sleep and start our white sand, blue water days anew tomorrow. But for now, at nearly midnight, we were really hungry. I had coaxed the recommendation of a locals restaurant out of our hotel desk man. We were off to “Bronco Billy’s”. I was a little skeptical about the place being a locals favorite based on the name, but I am a trusting soul. The walk from our hotel to BB’s was a little scary. However, I wasn’t really at all scared. As a Southern California boy, I’ve always been at home with all things Mexican. We walked down a dark street-slash-alley for about 3/4 of a mile. We encountered stray pit bulls, wandering drunk Mexican men, and an occasional loud scolding from an angry wife in a window above directed at who the hell knows. My wife held my hand so tight I could hear my digits start to crack. She urged a hasty retreat to the hotel about every half block. I greeted the rogue male’s we encountered in the dark with some banal mexican greeting, scared the dogs away with my cowboy boots, and we continued on to Bronco Billy’s. It really didn’t look as if we were in a commercial zone. There were no businesses in sight. We walked on and soon, lights and human activity came into view just a few blocks ahead. BB’s was a small corner taqueria. We walked in and found a table. We were the only white people in sight. The restaurant was painted all in lime green and had a big ice chest in the corner which I presume was the refrigerator. There was the standard salsa, onion/cilantro, marinated carrots and jalapeno bar, and a cooler with Coke, Mexican soda’s and Mexican beer. The cooks had soiled aprons and there were lots of flies. Most people from the U.S. of A. probably would have walked out long before this point. My nose and my view of the food they were preparing told me to stay even though my date was still pulling on me to go back to the hotel. I got in line, ordered what the people in front of me did, picked up a couple of Mexican soda’s and went to our table. The food was a hit! My wife had never had better mexican food. If we hadn’t persisted through all the tattered and formidable book covers presented to us along the way, we never would have found Bronco Billy’s.
This night really set the tone for the whole trip. We never went to or ate at any of the tourist venue’s the entire trip. We never got sick, we had delicious food and had most of our beer bought for us by the locals. Mexican men really love tall white girls. I recommend that you bring one every time you travel there……….Wow! That was really the long way around a point.
I still judge a book by its cover. We all do.
I met a woman at the beer place last night in St. Helena. The tavern was full of people who were either duck fans or beaver fans (ref. college football, Oregon). She was dressed in a dark sweat shirt, had mussed up greying hair, muddy half-boots, and a really loud hoop and holler for the beavers. My first impression of this woman based on her book cover was white trash, or maybe angry lesbian. We got to talking as the night went on and I found out that I was oh so wrong about my first take. She was pleasant, intelligent, gracious and quick-witted. She was there to watch the game, but not as an obnoxious fan. She was really just commuter stuck because the road was closed due to an accident. It turned out that she was a vice president and operations manager of several shopping malls in the area for Simon DeBartolo. She also has a small farm/ranch, and rescue’s and rehabilitates slaughter horses. Sometimes it’s fun to be wrong.
Another recent encounter of this nature happened to me last week. I’ve been looking for new house. Grandma, my landlord, informed me that she was not going to be renting to me anymore starting asap. Through a referral from a friend, I met Al and Marilyn. They are an older retired couple. They have a rental house in which they have a space available for me in the time frame that I require. We met at the rental home and Marilyn had forgotten keys. Al gave her a stern and uncomfortable public scolding. While she drove back home to retrieve the keys, Al and I made small talk for about 20 minutes. Al is an oddly figitty guy. He’s one of those people who doesn’t look you in the eye when they speak to you. He’s also very good at one way conversation. Not much of a listener. He actually turned his back on me while he spoke. I never know what to make of people like that. Are they really bored with me or are they schizophrenic. Either way, it’s pretty annoying. I was so annoyed, I said to him, “clearly I make you uncomfortable for some reason.” “I apologize if I’ve said or done something impolite”. How can I remedy the situation”. With his back turned to me, he said, “oh no, you’re fine”. “I’m just so angry with my wife for forgetting those keys”. “I don’t make mistakes”. I should have fallen down on my knees. Clearly I was in the presence of God. I continued with my small talk probe. It turns out that Al and Marilyn are Napa and Humbolt land barons. They come from farming and logging families that had loads of land. Al was starting to come around. I had him kind of looking at me side ways. You’ll never guess what Al did for work for 30 years. He was a communications teacher at the local high school and junior college. You’d think a teacher would be able to look you in the eye. Maybe he just got used to talking to people while writing on a blackboard.
It’s always a treat for me to peel the layers back on people. It gives you an insight into their perspective. But even as the layers come off, you still never know what you may find down deep. You may find a gem, or you may just find a rotten onion. Either way, I enjoy the peeling process.
And……………………………………………………I’m still going to judge people and books and everything else by it’s appearance.
Good talk, S
