Two, Shallow Hipsters in NYC

I went to New York City last weekend and thoroughly appreciated its energy, feel and food.  Fortunately, I navigated the slushy sidewalks without slipping.  Unfortunately, water seeped through my boots and soaked my socks.  When I saw a sock shop near St. Mark's, I shot inside.  Socks of all lengths, with all sorts of designs, made of all sorts of materials crowded the wall of a room a little bigger than a nice walk-in closet.

Here's the overheard conversation between two guys working there. (A snug fit for all three of us inside of the closet-shop).
My back is to them as I look at socks.  The room is so narrow that I can't sit on the ground to try on socks without hitting either the wall of socks or the glass case with the register on top.  I'm 5'3."
Guy at the register:  "Those Russian women look beautiful at first, but then they open their mouths and are all racist and stuff."
Guy 2:  "Yeah.  They suck.  They stereotype everyone else."
Register Guy:  "They seem like they hate everyone who isn't Russian."
Guy 2:  "It's stupid.  I just like American women."
I turn around and give them a dirty look for discounting a country.  They stop talking while I face them as if I need to read their lips to follow their words.   I turn to browse the socks again.  Register Guy accepts and expands on Guy 2's rejection of women anywhere outside of America.
Register Guy:  "Well, just make sure they're real American women.  Some women around here aren't American."
Guy 2:  "That's true.  You think they're American and, then, they start talking."
Register Guy:  "Remember, though, that there are racist, backwards women in other parts of the country.  Like in Kansas or somewhere like Kansas.  We just see liberal American women around here and don't see women like those women in Kansas."
Guy 2:  "You're right.  That's -"
I turn to face the two guys again, causing Guy 2 to stop mid-sentence.  He tilts his head toward the
ceiling in the opposite direction of the register.  The guy at the register suddenly looks like he's half asleep and moves his fingers around on the counter.  I announce that I have a pair of socks to get his attention.  He looks my way and widens his eyes as if surprised.

Yes, I bought a pair of Wolverine socks despite their crazy xenophobic exchange.  I really needed something warm on my feet...  I'm sure the store owner isn't a hater...  just a person with a dream of providing public access to inexpensive, nice socks.  I feel guilty that I didn't promptly exit the store as  they belittled continents, but my feet were so cold.  I thought about pretending to have a Russian accent as I checked out.   I wonder whether they began whittling down neighborhoods in New York in which women were acceptable or not after I left.