Day six: The social stigma of public transportation
There’s nothing wrong with a 32-year-old women walking to the store for a six-pack of cold beer and carrying it home, in front of God and the neighbors and the world to see.
Then why didn’t I do that?
I’ll tell you why. Most people see something wrong with a 32-year-old women (a mother no less) carrying a six-pack of beer (probably Bud no less) home from the convenience store. So on the Fourth of July, with a steak on the grill, I backed out of my beer run.
Not having a car has provided me with a series of tiny humiliations.
There’s a stigma attached to waiting for, and riding, a bus in a small city, or to carrying home several sacks of groceries in front of neighbors.
And when you take your children it’s 10 times worse.
For the most part, I can ignore and even bask in my choices, knowing my decisions might not always be right but I’m making them for good reasons.
As for the beer? Even I have limits to how boldly I’ll wear my Scarlet Letter.
Next time, I’ll just pick up a bottle of wine downtown on farmer’s market day and stuff it in my diaper bag.
I prefer wine anyway.