There was a question in yesterday’s Reader Poll Monday that’s still bothering me, about whether one would rather be known worldwide as a racist or a child molestor.
It bugged me because I remember some guy I dated years ago. Nice guy. Really. But he just didn’t *do* it for me. I miss our friendship sometimes, although even that might have been a matter of convenience and circumstance as well.
Anyway, he was convinced that I wasn’t into him because of his race. He told me as much. Man, did that bother me. And I think he said it to get under my skin, because I admit, I thought about it.
For a minute, anyway.