In part 1 of Dress To Your Fantasy, I talked about where the inspiration came from. I didn't follow through for a few more weeks after and the reason was not because of my inspiration.
From reading my intro you know, I'm an entrepreneur who made the trek to SF with $300.
I also shared a story about not getting a place if you are a single guy founder in SF.
I should add some asterisks here and there, because different rules apply for different people. During my grind, my up time was 5am/5:30am depending on where I crashed for the night. By 6am I'm at the nearest Starbucks, laptop on deck and coding away.
The thing about SF is there are a LOT of homeless folks. I don't mean hippie "homeless" like I was, but flat out homeless folks as south park depicted.
In the middle of affluence are a couple blocks that are an amazing sight experience that's counter to the affluence seen just a block over. This area is called "The Tenderlion".
You've heard Dave Chapelle talk about San Francisco's Tenderlion area
It's mostly an area of American Blacks, many of whom have amazing stories to share despite the backdrop of despair.
The scene can be such a shock to the system to see in the middle of San Francisco, that it may become very easy to subconsciously assume non affluent (appearing) black folk are part of that Tenderloin residency.
I don't want to wolf call the "race-ism's" of this story, without fully considering the characters on stage.
My mornings start at 6am at the closest Starbucks, or the one with the best wifi. After a number of mornings at this Starbucks on Montgomery, I was asked to leave by the manager one morning, in a VERY rude way as you can see.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
At another situation, here's a police officer drawing her gun on me, while I waiting for a friend in his apartment
building. The maintenance worker without saying a word or asking any questions
(MAYBE) assumed I was part of the Tenderlion's residence a few blocks away and called the
cops.
Add a number of other incidences, including one from a cop asking for my ID as soon as I walked into the wholefoods
bathroom he was in. He claimed I fit a description and I politely refused to follow him outside the store, past watching eyes and camera's. He looked at my ID in the middle of the wholefoods and give it back.
The last straw happened at another Starbucks.
This Starbucks saw me in and out every morning for close to a year. Every team member knew it'd either get
a tall Earl Grey 'Hot' (often using my captain Piccard voice) and a morning bun. They knew sometimes my morning started with a smoke break, or sometimes hours of staring at my computer before I put in my regular order.
A new manager took over that location and on his 3rd day he stumps over and aggressively tells me... buy something or leave.
Impressively flustered I declined, a gesture that encouraged him to go get the building security guard (a Nigerian) who had to tell him, "I can't throw him out, I've seen him coming here for a year"...
"even If I didn't know him," he said, "out of principle, I can't throw out someone who works that hard" he said.
The manager then got confirmations from the other team members that yes, I do buy things and yes I've been starting my mornings at that Starbucks for quite sometime.
"Didn't you ask any of them, what's up with that guy, does he buy things?"
I asked the manager
Clearly embarrassed he walked away.
At that moment, I knew I had to change my appearance. Whatever it was that got me such unsolicited disrespect had to go and it had to go today, I thought.
I can't go around calling everyone racists... so let me remove whatever image they hold of
someone who looks like me from their subconscious.
I put on my african clothes, dress to my fantasy as an African prince and immediately the results were notice-able.
Whatever brand of black I was, I certainly didn't appear to be the brand who resides at the Tenderlion.
Cops have been very respectful to me, every where I go I'm treated like a man majority of the 24 hours in a day unlike before.
This is all thanks to my decision to start dressing to my fantasy as a African prince.