I'm A Bigot.

On the weekends I work in retail, for a national grocery chain. While was ringing customers there is a woman in my line. She is wearing the trendy 'I want to be noticed' look of the moment. Her jewelry is worth more than the GDP of most Eastern European nations. She is on her cell phone talking loudly.

She has placed her red basked full of groceries on the floor in front of her. The closer she gets to register she pushes the basket with foot. The sound of the basket scraping the floor makes imagine her walking toward me dragging a clubfoot behind her.

I pretend not to notice.

It's her turn she, she walks over to slide her credit card through. Still on the phone, the talking is louder. She is now 3 feet from my face.

I look at her funny because she hasn't put any product on the counter where it should be for me to ring it up. This annoyed her. She points to the floor where she has left her basket and I have seemed to forgot that like her maid I am supposed to pick-up whatever she drops on the floor.

I ring up her groceries she pays with a credit card. The receipt starts to print. I hand her her copy and take mine. I give her my best "I hope you die in your sleep" smile. I don't say thank you. I read the name on the receipt. It's Rosenberg.

Of course it is.

Later that day I walk by my boss and wisper in her ear, "I wasn't a bigot before I worked here."