Locals 2, tourists 0
A co-worker who lives in Half Moon Bay told me this story. She was at the Three-Zero Cafe at the little airport there — evidently a hangout even for non-aviating locals. A couple of tourists were loudly talking with each other — “broadcasting,” as my co-worker put it — in negative tones, all the usual stereotypes about northern California — the liberals, the gays, and so on, as if someone had suddenly turned on one of those conservative radio talk stations. After everyone in the place had endured this for a time, the owner came over to their table and asked, “You’re not from around here, are you??” and when they proudly said no, he slapped the bill on their table and said he was sorry they weren’t comfortable there but hoped they’d soon find someplace more to their liking.
They finished up their meal in a hurry and left in a huff, as Groucho Marx once said: “You can leave in a taxi. If you can’t get a taxi, you can leave in a Huff. If that’s too soon, you can leave in a minute and a huff.”
(The Huff was a car of the 1920s, I always thought — that’s the joke. But I can’t find it anywhere on the internets. I would have liked to link it.)
I support the proprietor’s action, but on the other hand if you’re going to advertise your joint as “The Best Breakfast on the Coast” (accg. to their website) and stick a Google map on there, you’re bound to get tourists.
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Why are some people nice to assholes? If assholes find somebody to challenge them, guess what, they’re not assholes anymore! At least not in public.
Case in point, I was up at twin peaks lookout waiting in line for a bathroom, when a honky ass ratt haired from Tennetucky or whatever was telling her husband how sf was just so amazing, except when they drove through the gay district, which she started mocking. I took her phone from her and threw it down the hill, told her that you’re on our turf now and you play by our rules.
@gohome: I live in the Castro, and you’re my hero. I think a good way to get your ass beat around these parts is to show up and start talking shit about the homos.
Reminds me of a time I was having lunch with a friend down at Fisherman’s Warf. Two drawling out-of-towners were making all kinds of off color remarks about all the, “fucking faggots in this town.”
My friend (6′6″, 250 lbs. of genuine sweetness) leaned over to their table and asked, “hey… has some fag ever done something really awful to you to make you say that sort of stuff?”
The kid, taken aback by the question, stammered out a, “well… no…”
To which my friend replied, “well, unless you want one to right now, you might want to shut the fuck up.”
Dude. Mark, you’re my hero.
Although I don’t think I’d have the balls to toss someone’s cell phone like GoHome, but mainly for the potential felony/misdemeanor issues.