A Stupid Gringo Comes To Santa Fe

Three days in Santa Fe was enough to feel like I'd visited the place. The wi-fi at the America's Best Value Inn was beyond terrible---four routers, none of which worked reliably. Fortunately there were a couple Starbucks nearby so working wasn't a big deal. But it I was bored when in my room.

I had a chance to explore the historic downtown a couple times and reminisce about the last time I was through there, twenty-five years ago on a cross-country road trip with my friend Charles. I tried to remember the exact restaurant that his aunt and uncle took us to. I remember being impressed by the waiter, who refused to let me hand him my plate. "My day on, your day off," he said. It obviously made an impression on me.

I went into the cathedral a couple times--the one Willa Cather wrote about in Death Comes for the Archbishop. I'd read that novel back in high school because my mother is from Nebraska and loved Willa Cather.

I also managed to get verbally assaulted by a hideous woman in an auto parts store while buying transmission fluid. When I first walked in, a male customer was complaining about a part. He was upset. The woman came in later with a friend and told him to "chill out and take it easy." He didn't respond to that well. She proceeded to start insulting all the other men in the store. She called me a "gringo pendejo" (stupid gringo). That was a trap, since I was the only non-Hispanic person in the store. 

I replied, in my most sarcastic tone, "Oooh. Ethnic slurs---classy!"

That only enraged her and she proceeded with all manner sexual insults, the kind that women hurl at men to demean and humiliate them. First off, I evidently just needed to "get laid." Then she escalated by saying all manner of disgusting things about "my wife," none of which propriety allows me to repeat here.

Truth be told, I could have avoided the whole thing, but I chose to confront her. I knew it was pointless, all in all, but I wantd to test myself. In the past I would have let the emotion get to me. But this time I kept my cool composure, with an inner calmness. But afterwards I felt icky. I went back to the cathedral again to meditate, and to repent of my wretched pride.