I had a bit of a weird interaction today. Well, I guess it wasn’t any weirder than my usual ones, but something about it stuck with me. It seems the other two G’s just shrugged it off, but I can’t get it out of my mind.
I was driving toward my favourite mechanic shop near Hobart, sitting next to my friend in the passenger seat, taking my car through the tunnel, when somebody shouted at us from the car ahead.
“Get off the road!” he roared. “You’ve got no place in this country with your white glow and fiendishness!”
We get those sorts of comments all the time, from phasmo-phobic people who don’t understand what it’s like to be us. We’re just trying our best to fit in, but it can be really hard sometimes. Particularly when you’re attempting to act cool by wearing sunglasses, and you buy an extra pair for your buddy, only for people to start screaming out in fear. We’ve never done anything to hurt anyone!
Thankfully the mechanics understand us, once they get over their shock. We don’t have any trouble changing tyres near Hobart. If only everybody understood us as they do, maybe this world wouldn’t be so hard for people like us. I’d like to regain my citizenship and right to vote eventually but for now I’d settle for people not fleeing when I say, “Hey, I’m the driver, nice to meet you.”
And my poor buddy gets stressed whenever we drive past farms, because he’s worried they’re going to lock him back up, even though it’s physically impossible. It’s funny, I thought he’d be more afraid of cars after I struck him at over 250 km/h and turned the three of us into statistics. But you know, I guess that’s why they call it an irrational fear.