$Texas, Journalism, Me Myself and Ty

Undercover in plain sight

It was the first of many instances where I realized that after living in a state where I looked like everyone else, I now lived in a place where I stood out.

I am the exotic one here.

The cashier at the grocery store asked for my number.

Women passing me on the beach complimented my “highlights.’

I get looks in every bar or club I enter because besides being a head taller than most everyone else there, that aforementioned head is one covered in long blonde hair.

I opened a checking account and, by the end of the process, the financial consultant told me to let him know if I wanted to hang out.

A self-described attention whore, of course I am eating the attention up, but I cannot help but wonder if it could possibly have an affect on my ability to do my job.

In government reporting, we observe and report.

I typically sit in the corners of meeting rooms — wherever I can hear the most and get noticed the least…How do I blend in and do my job when everyone is painfully aware that this monolingual guero is there?

I guess I will just have to be better.

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2 thoughts on “Undercover in plain sight

  1. Rikki says:

    My mother always told me when I was little, “It hurts to be beautiful.” That was usually when someone was yanking a hairbrush through my rat’s nest though.

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