I thought of a kind of up beat story from my grocery store days. I was working when a father (F) and his early twenties son (S) walk up to the meat department. As I was getting their stuff I (M) struck up a conversation.
M-I like your shirt. You like Sublime. What is your favorite Sublime song?
S-Uhhh I'm not sure. This is just a random shirt
The son seem like maybe he had a developmental disability or something of that sort. I don't mean to judge I'm just stating.
F-What is Sublime?
M-Oh it's just a band. I saw his shirt and thought maybe he was a fan
F-What kind of music do they play?
M-It's like reggae
F-So they sing about smoking weed?
M-(lying)It's been a few years since I've listened to their songs so I'm not sure.
F-Well I'm going to have to look them up when I get home.
All the mean while S is just giving me a death glare. I knew I fucked up. It seemed like he liked the shirt regardless of what was written on it and it also seemed like his dad was really uptight and might take the shirt away.
Fast forward a few months. I see the father son combo come in both wearing matching Sublime shirts. F tells me about how he doesn't like what they sing about but he likes the music and he and his son have found something they both enjoy.
I was nervous I had fucked up but it turns out I might have opened up the father's mind to something new and allowed him and his son to connect