Day 2 Jackson Hole – The Red Neck

Posted on September 22, 2013

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Noodle out filming in Jackson Hole

Noodle out filming in Jackson Hole

After a busy day scouting locations and working on my presentation ahead of the summit   “The Bureau” – that’s Noodle, the Jersey Girls and I headed into town for dinner. We were meeting with some of the UN delegates and the New York team from the Arcus Foundation, which is co-funding the four-day event.

For those that don’t know the Arcus Foundation was founded by the multi-billionaire Jon Stryker who is also its president. It supports the advancement of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) human rights, and conservation of the world’s great apes. Mr Stryker  – a generous and shy man  – has already donated £250m to philanthropic causes. I didn’t actually get to meet the man himself until today (that’s Day 3’s post and it’s not written yet!!)

At the restaurant the speciality was Elk. So Elk it was and it was delicious; it tastes like venison but so much softer. We left the “grown ups” to retire to their rooms as we walked back to the hotel and then the four of us took a detour and headed to a local bar to see what the town was serving up on a Friday night. I can only say it was an experience I won’t ever forget.

As we climbed the narrow stairs to the first floor of a music bar, a live funk band was singing slightly out of key to an audience filled with surfer dude types. The band members themselves were all sporting different hats, wearing shorts and flip-flops. It was a very special look.

We muscled our way to the bar and ordered some drinks and when I turned around, I found myself staring at the chest of a Texan giant. He was about 6-foot 6, built like a brick s*** house and had shoulder length bleach blonde hair which he’d tied up in a loose pony-tail. He leaned in and slurred into my ear:

“Are you from Paaak-is-taaan?”

His drawl left a scent of whiskey and bad breath hovering around me. Christ, this is gonna be hard work I thought.

“No, I’m from London,” I replied politely.

“Yeah but are you from In-di-aaaa?” He insisted.

“No I’m from London.” For God sake, is this man thick or just drunk? “So where are you from?” I said taking control of the conversation.

“Tex-aaas!” He blurted out leaning back on his heels and falling back in towards me.

“Oh right,” that figures I muttered to myself. “And what’s your name?” trying to work with what little material I had.

“LB.”

“And what does that stand for?”

“Luscious Boner,” he snorted.

Hmmm I seriously doubt that i said to myself as I decided that I really need to get away from this knob.

“So where’s your parents from?” he insisted.

“Look., my heritage is Indian, my mother is from Trinidad and my father is from Tanzania,” hoping this would satisfy he completely ignorant attitude.

“So whad-das that make you…….? A mut?!”

And there you had it. A typical Red Neck Comment. I did think of coming back with a cutting remark, but thankfully my senses told me to “walk away”.

I pulled at J’s arm and said, “Grab D we’re moving NOW! Let’s find Noodle.”

As I pushed past the white supremacist I still couldn’t digest what I had just heard. This is 2013, it’s an outrage. But then again this is also the wild west where some folk just say what they feel.

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Posted in: Jackson Hole