Beyond yesterday's mention of getting kicked out of restaurants, I note I used to get kicked out of supermarkets. For instance, some old hag kept running her shopping cart into me at a Kroger [King Super] back in Colorado. I told her to get away from me and she immediately returned with a manager and I was removed and banned. For a while there, this played similarly. At a Safeway this [another] old hag cut in front of me in line. I told her she was dead if she didn't get in her place and the manager and police swooped over and not only made me leave but trespassed me as well.
Then, I stopped getting kicked out of stores when I moved to Arizona. And now I get kicked out of restaurants. The last one, I don't know why--perhaps mistaken identity. The one last month, the hostess told me to sit anywhere. I sat at a table by the window [lunch time hardly anyone in restaurant]. "You can't sit there. Go over there to crappy tables." And I replied "You said sit anywhere." And she said, "You get out. We don't want your kind here."
It's not easy being me.
Way back in the good old days, the Irish were treated that way, tossed out of restaurants and barred from hotels. My character, Miles O'Malley, In The Devil's Due discovers his horse is more welcome at a lodging place than he is.
Well, alas, I don't seem as welcome as Miles lately. And no, I have no idea what "your kind" implied.