I had forgotten about this situation that occurred back in 2003. My friend and brother were in town and we out to see some live music in the town. This was before I had a band. When folks from the past come to visit you tend to get energized and maybe a little crazier than usual. Add alcohol to all of this and it can get a little weird.
So we're standing at the bar and I see this kid who is a little younger than us. Kind of looks like your average hippy, or at least the vibe he was putting out. There were many cliches going on here. Fucked up saggy pants, a book in his back pocket (yeah, notice me, I can read, I'm an intellectual), and a communist shirt, with the hammer and sickle, which was bigger, as to hide the apparent weight problem. He was apparently all about sharing, except when it came to his food.
At this time I'm getting drunk and goofy as usual at the bar, but slightly bored and I feel I need to do something to get a silly story out of the night, with my western PA peeps in town. These stereotypical things and his approach was beginning to grade on me, not unlike how I grade on people sometimes at the bar. I'm not unaware of what I do.
I have no idea what inspired me to come up with this exact angle but I felt the need to create an extremely awkward situation and make this dude a part of it. I decided which role to take and walked towards him. I asked him about his shirt. I forget exactly what I said at first or what he even said but I began to change the tone.
I started to tell him, fictitiously, that Soviet symbolism was very painful for me to see. I went on about non existent relatives living in eastern Europe and how horribly they were treated by the Communist regime. I played the part well, I pretended I was speaking truth. I questioned how he could support such violence and thuggery. This was all going on as the bands were playing so there wasn't really a scene, but the awkwardness on his face was priceless. I got the necessary response. He was awkward and almost apologetic. It was really just asinine.
I walked back to my brother and friend and told them the whole thing. They weren't really impressed, though they would never have the guts to do anything of that sort. We continued the drinking and carrying on and I left the fella alone. The whole thing probably lasted just five minutes, but it was a heavy/entertaining five minutes. I guess I should be thankful the dude wasn't as violent as what his symbols represent. It could've been ugly.