Mistaken Identity.................Arion

It was early in 2000 on a bright summer day when I decided to get an "ocean fix". Living in a landlocked town can be a burden, especially if you like hearing the sounds of the ocean. So, I decided to go to the seashore. I wore shorts, sandals, and a bright tie-dye shirt. I jumped in the car and headed west toward Ocean Beach, which lies on the edge of San Francisco. My day was all planned out. I was going to stop for lunch at my favorite restaurant, then drive out to the ocean where I'd sit on the sand and watch the waves and listen to them. There would be joggers, kite flyers, and lots of people with dogs who'd be chasing sticks and tennis balls. It was going to be a peaceful, relaxing day.

The trip to San Francisco was uneventful, and when I got to the Geary Street parking garage near the restaurant I found a space right away. There were no problems at all. Or so I thought.

As I climbed out of the car I noticed a conservative-looking man in a coat and tie getting out of a Cadillac. He glanced in my direction and made a face at me. "You're such a waste!" he snarled.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You're a disgrace," he said, straightening up and looking at me. "What did you do, get out of your parents' basement? how long has it been since you've had a job? Why aren't you doing something worthwhile instead of sponging off of other people? You people make me sick!"

I shut the car-door, straightened my shoulders and walked right over to him. "Are you speaking to me?"

"What are you, stoned? Of course I'm talking you, you stupid twerp!"

"I don't know who you are," I said, my voice getting lower and more menacing, "or who you think you are, but you have no right to insult a perfect stranger."

"Get a job!" he shouted. "Show me that you can contribute something to society and then I'll believe you have rights?"

"You seem to think I'm some sort of layabout," I said, matching his volume. "What do you really know about me? Do you know that I own a successful business? Do you know that I work with a program to teach children to read?" I proceeded to list personal accomplishments, as well as the work I'd done through my Rotary Club, and in civic projects. I noticed that he was starting to deflate and look less sure of himself.

"And do you know that I've studied three forms of martial arts? And unless you have some sort of excuse for your bad behavior I am going to knock you into next week!"

He stared at me and then said, "I'm sorry. I saw your tie-dye shirt and...I thought you were a Deadhead. You know, one of those worthless band-chasers. They never amount to anything and...I thought you were one of them."

I snorted, and looked at him hard. He was fidgeting in embarrassment, but I thought he needed to be taken down another peg.

"My friend Don is a Deadhead, and he teaches physics. I know another Deadhead who is a professor in Philosophy. And my friend George is a Deadhead and he works in a nuclear power plant. So tell me, sir, which one of them is worthless? Which one of them has not amounted to anything?"

He stared and stared but had no answer.

"Don't judge a book by its cover," I said, then turned and walked away.

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