I am always amused when those on the far left claim to speak for the "working man" but
have zero contact with those people. The may go some Thereisenstadt type useful idiot tours arranged by Hugo or Fidel. Some might visit agricultural workers for a day or two
and return home and mistreat their cleaning woman.
Many of you know the interesting bio of yours truly. When I talk of "debutantes at DC cocktail parties, salonistas, fashionistas, faculty lounge lizards, faux Europhile loser types I am describing people I lived with. At one point I did live in a very far left enclave in NYC where few people actually worked.
I really did not care for my neighbors who did not work, but were somehow experts on the lives of working class people. For the most part I excused myself and walked away when the political talk started. One of my loopy neighbors was a nasty divorced loser woman whose husband probably committed suicide to get away from her. She never worked a day in her life and inherited money from her family and a lawyer spouse. For the sake of this post we will call this person S.
S was one of Hillary's coven who thought the fate of the planet rested on Hillary's election to the Senate. She came barging into my apartment and started screaming at me to put away that filth. The filth she was describing was the NY Post. Surely, you don't read that vile rag. The crone was shocked to find a copy of the Rosenberg File on the book case and concluded "Ohhh my gawd your one of those..." In a building where much of the tenants are gay or anarchists "one of those people" means Republican".
She started to go off on an incoherent rant about me automatically being a racist, homophobe and so forth because I am a Republican. She warned the woman I was living with that she could not hope to civilize me with trips to Broadway and Museums. The crone had not figured out that I was the person dragging my girlfriend to those places. In this case despite my upper middle class lineage, I was far more accustomed
to those places than my socialite girlfriend.
From that day forward the woman would not get on an elevator and would visit our apartment to see my girlfriend and would be rude. My girlfriend was not political, but understood some of my humor. S liked to delude herself she was French and she spent 1/2 her year in Southern France. Her sole real friend was a Shitzu that she spoke to in French and sent to psychotherapy once a month. When she would enter our apartment I would drift into a Guyanese accent and talk in the local dialect to our ever suffering Tuxedo cat. I even purchased a Guyanaman shirt and a few pairs of white Bermuda shorts that I would wear in anticipation of her nightly visits. She screamed at me "Knock it off you are not Guyanese and this act isn't funny". I reminded her S and you are not French and that isn't funny. I then got a lecture how the "French are evolved" and superior to Americans. I stated this is true only in her case.
I remember her getting into a lather about my poor breeding. The rant was triggered by my inviting our Trinidadian housekeeper to eat at the same table. I had just finnished cooking comfort food and invited our tired cleaning woman to sit and enjoy a meal. I pointed out to S that I am selective in my dinner parties and quite frankly she didn't make the cut. Personally, I would rather eat a home cooked meal than go to a fancy restaurant,but I am considered a primitive. This same clueless far left type started to lecture me about the role of staff and help knowing their place.
Of course she was all for evolved Euro socialism as long as the hired help knew its place and did not get a seat at the table.
The irony is the woman was not clever enough to grasp the point.