The Neon Orange Hat By: Allison Anderson

When people talk about a proper redneck weird as it may they must've been talking about the man I observed. At first glance his neon orange hat told me he is a hunter, has to be why else would someone have that kind of hat. His bright orange hat was paired with a cargo jacket another popular accessory for those who live in the outdoors. The brown green cargo jacket matching the endless shades of green and brown it must have seen. His light wash jeans an un natural color were absent with grass stains. It's 3pm in the Noblesville Starbucks and this is the outfit he wears it blatantly said I'm not an office worker. That's as informal as it gets. To top it all off he kept putting a stir stick in his mouth mimicking hay or a cigarette. His grey Nike high tops were the only part of his outfit that I did not expect. They acted like a metal gear in grown into a tree, a defiance to the natural order and in this case the natural clothing pairing.

His face was young he looked no older than 25. Not chiseled or mystifying like a Greek statue but the average run of the mill kind of face. His average face reminded me of the kitchen staff at my place of work I even mistook him for one at first. His blond hair un pure and dark reflected all the dirt he spent the majority of his life in. His stubble beard like the one you would see a boy try to grow to wear the mask of a man. I could picture his face at a heavy metal concert perfectly fitting into the mass of screams and shouts. It would be a Five Finger Death Punch concert and he would admire the great amount of emotion conveyed in there songs.

The more I observe and look past his physical appearance I begin to see they way he composes himself is not what I had expected. He walked in and saw that there was a line and went to browse the shelves of merchandise. He studied multiple pieces and put them all back with surgeon precision. When he spoke his single sentence his diction betrayed his appearance. It was polished like a precious stone he was calm and poised. He only said one sentence yet every word he said was thought out he didn't waste a single breath. I soon saw that I focused to much on his clothes and not enough on him as a person.

The neon hat he wore the warning symbol for hunters that this is a person now inadvertently dragged eyes to its bright lure. The hat is now being hunted by assuming eyes, my assuming eyes.

The neon hat he wore the warning symbol for hunters that this is a person now inadvertently dragged eyes to its bright lure. The hat is now being hunted by assuming eyes, my assuming eyes. When his eyes looked into mine I had been shot I was animal caught, the roles had been switched. I was focusing too much on his appearance my entire opinion would have been different if he came in khakis and a long sleeve or anything else for that matter. In my observation it brought to light the fact when making a first impression we focus on the clothing and form opinions based the stereotypes they present. We must observe someone and the way they act should be the prime way to form a first impression since anyone can wear anything.

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