Hippies on the Train

I do not hate anyone, because I believe that I am called to love others as I would love myself. But I sure do get irritated by a certain group of people- Hardcore Hippies.

 Because I have lived on Vancouver Island and now in the eclectic San Francisco Bay Area, I have encountered my fair share of hard-core hippies. I am not referring to people who enjoy nature or strive to be Green, I am talking about the type of individuals that will only wear recycled clothing, do not bathe, do not wash their hair and live in a tent or trailer by choice. I am going out on a limb here, but I have yet to meet a single hippy that is nice, kind and uses reasonable logic. The people that I have met smell, are self-righteous about their lifestyle and interact with others in a condescending way. Yes, this sounds like stereotyping (actually I am pretty positive it is stereotyping!) but this is based out of my own personal experience.

So imagine my delight when I stepped onto a train last week filled with hippies. Ahh.. yes. Just who I felt like spending 30 minutes with after working a 57 hour week. I even unknowingly sat across from King Hippy himself.  He looked like he had not bathed in 7 weeks and he definitely had an arrogant air about him. But this is what took the cake… he proceeded to play with the 5 long hairs sprouting out of the tip of his chin for the entire ride. I must preface this statement by saying that another one of my Top 5 annoyances is men who play with their long facial hair in public. There is nothing creepier than this. Onto the tale.. so this guy twisted, turned and scratched at his long facial hair for 30 minutes. If I had a personal hell it would probably consist of being inside a small room, filled with hard-core hippies, playing with their obnoxiously long facial hair, while hacking up a lung  in my face (that’s another annoyance I will leave for a different post).

While King Hippy was busy playing with his facial hair, I was delighted to notice Grandma Hippy to my right. Grandma Hippy has probably been pulling off her whole look and lifestyle since the hippy heyday several decades ago. She took the time to painstakingly paint a peace sign onto her well-worn Crocs and had long, white hair that cascaded down her gnarled back. Grandma Hippy amused more than annoyed, especially when she poked fellow passengers with her walking stick when they inched too close to her personal space.

I would love to be proven wrong and meet a really nice and genuine hippy (preferably one that showers), so let me know if you are personally acquainted with one of these anomalies.


About bartblogger

I commute. I work. I commute again. 5 hours of my life are spent on Bay Area Rapid Transit each week. My fellow passengers intrigue, inspire, disgust and humor me.
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