My week with the bigots

We had great seats at the Family Circle Cup--front row of the second tier, on the west side of the stadium. In fact, they were arguably the best seats in the house. The downside was that we sat next to two couples who, over the course of the week, wore me down, or at least the women did.

The first clue about them occurred when one of the women told us it was okay to leave some of our things behind when we left our seats. The only time she had ever had a problem, it turns out, was when "the black man who cleaned up" turned her stuff into the lost and found. I wanted very badly to ask her what on earth his color had to do with anything, but I had to sit next to her all week. (I now regret I didn't say something.)

Then there was the matter of Brokeback Mountain. During one of the matches, a player broke an opponent, and the opponent broke her back immediately. In discussing what had happened, the husband of the above referenced woman told the other woman "She broke back. That reminds me, did you see Brokeback Mountain?" The woman immediately answered: "I wouldn't waste my money on crap like that."

Of course, all week long, the mouthy woman who left her bags behind to the fate of the black man referred to the players as "little girls," though they ranged in age from 16 to 32. During one of the doubles semifinal matches, Shinobu Asagoe was putting on quite a show. Asagoe is a well known WTA player, and for the uneducated, her name was up on the scoreboard in huge letters. Nevertheless, our put-upon seat companion never referred to her as anything other than "that little Japanese girl." She called the Caucasian players by their names.

What I have described is the usual face of bigotry in America. It doesn't advocate slavery or whipping or separate bathrooms or lower pay. But the racism and sexism leaks out with every turn of phrase, poisoning the atmosphere.