Cape Town Stories 3
I’m at a fish shop at the harbour, want to order some slap chips and deep fried fish. But before I get a chance to order, one of the ladies working there walks up to me to tell me that I am not allowed to be in there looking „like that“. I look down at my basic black jeans and black top and back up at the scene; tables covered in plastic table cloths, dirty floor tiles and people eating their food off of colourful plastic plates. I ask her if she is joking. She points at a sign on the wall that reads that guns are not tolerated inside the fish shop, which I get, and that men may not be barechested. I point out that I am neither a man, nor is my chest bare, it is my back that is uncovered. She says it’s the same.