Knowing I'd be driving through the rural areas of Southern red states on my recent trip to Georgia, I removed my Beto bumper sticker. I was afraid small town Trumpers might run me off the road, or worse.
At the same time, I cringed at silencing my point of view out of fear. So yesterday, I put up a new yard sign and replaced the bumper sticker.
Today, waiting in a drive-through line right here in San Antonio, I noticed a car coming toward me as if to tell me something. Maybe I had a flat tire? She stopped inches from my car and began yelling atrocious and vicious lies about "Cocaine Beto El Paso Bastard," then she drove away shooting me the bird.
Before today, I have had mostly complimentary comments from strangers. One man offered to load up my groceries for me because he "loves Beto, too!" A young woman with a baby in a stroller said, "Love your bumper sticker!"
For the next week, I will wear the Beto earrings Pam gave me. I won't take down my yard sign. And I won't remove my bumper sticker. But today, I was glad that the stranger who needed to spew her rage didn't have a gun!
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