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9 October, 2004
How to Shoot Yourself in the Foot: A Lesson

My friend and I were having drinks when we noticed an older gentleman putting up election posters inside the café. We thought the posters were going up because the café owner supported the candidate.

The man putting up the posters approached us and said, "We're going to be having a political event here shortly, but you are welcome to stay and ask the candidate questions. It will be fun; we'll be chatting, we'll have some pizza, so please stick around."

We stayed. Nicely dressed middle-aged people filled the café. The conversations became quite loud. Soon we were the only people there who had arrived before the event started.

We were expecting conventional North American pizza out of a box from a recognized pizza chain. Soon, though, we realized that the pizza was being made right there in the café and being served on plates to the patrons at their tables. I have to admit, we were excited about getting pizza. But we also wanted to ask the candidate some questions.

Soon it became evident that pizza was being served to everyone except us. Feelings of segregation, discrimination, and irritation overcame us. This was intensified when I noticed that the other patrons were also being served wine at their tables.

I was wearing a t-shirt and my friend was wearing a tank-top. But we didn't think we should be left out of the event for this reason. It was especially poor maneuvering on the part of the candidate to exclude people from his event; it would just cost him votes.

We began "vulturing" pizza. When people got up and left the café, my friend strolled by and picked up the leftover pizza. Nobody reacted.

My friend asked a server if the wine was complementary. The server looked shocked and said, "Umm, I don't know." The possibility of her truly remaining uninformed of the night's plans by the rest of the staff seemed very unlikely. It seemed obvious that she simply didn't know if the wine was for those two in the jeans.

The server asked someone else. My friend came back with a glass of red wine. (I was fighting a cold at the time, and refraining from the consumption of alcohol.)

I approached the man who had invited us to stay. I thanked him for the invitation, and said that I intended to ask the candidate some questions. He was glad, and suggested where I should sit, as the candidate was moving in a clockwise direction. He directed me towards materials about the candidate's platform. I gathered some materials, then turned around to find him talking to someone else. I had missed my chance to inquire about our segregation.

My friend and I moved to the table that was next in the candidate's rotation. Upon finishing where he was, he stood up, walked past our table, and pulled out a chair at the table after us.

I stood up, offered my hand, and said that we had been invited to this event and that I wanted to ask some questions. He smiled warmly and said "Great! Let's have a seat and talk." Very smooth.

I asked him three intelligent questions, and he answered them. I was too 'fraidy-cat to ask why we had been segregated. His answers shaped my decision to vote against him more than did our treatment.

That night showed me that the 21st century has not brought much change in people's attitudes or judgements. I'm sure this candidate did not expect the guy in the jewellery and big jeans to be 28 years old and very civic-minded.

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