Dont faze me as much as it did the first 2 times but it does get old and annoying.
Lemme share a few anecdotes:
First, understand that Reno and Sparks, NV are kinda hick towns with a foundation on cowboyism (and everything that implies). The term "redneck" comes to mind often.
In 2001 I bought a brand-new bright red Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder GT. Being as it was new, there was no license plate. The dealership put the dealer placard against the rear windshield, which of course ends up inside the car when the roof is retracted (it's a convertible). I got pulled over 6 times in 2 weeks (for no traffic infractions, jsut because I looked Hispanic and was driving a nice sports car that at the time didn't have plates yet because I was waiting for the Dealer Report of Sale so I can register it at the DMV!). I was once pulled over by a Hispanic motorcycle cop who started talking to me in Spanish, which I do not speak. I got tired of the profiling, and figured with my looks (specifically, skin color), and this hot looking car, I am going to get pulled over forever! Returned the car to the dealership, explained what happend, and got an SUV instead.
Another time, part of my job (at the time) was servicing the computers that run unmanned gas stations, and I was at such a location in town that is near a trailer park area. Well, working on the computer, the pumps were shut off, and I was the only one around. I put the cones out, I put the bright yellow plastic bags on the pump handles, and placed the cover over the card reader and keypad unit. Ya gotta be blind to think the gas station was open! Anyway, a battered old Chevy pickup pulls right up to the Diesel pump...it looks like it had been spray-painted (with aerosol spray paint in cans) a sick combination of greens, blacks, and reds...and lookee here! behind the wheel was Jim-boy and his buddy Jack (if you know what I mean). I was in the equipment closet, on the side of which was the card reader and keypad, and by the time I was able to approach the driver, he had already gotten out of his truck, taken the plastic bag off of the Diesel pump handle, taken the cover off of the card reader, and was trying to swipe his gas card. I politely explained that due to software upgrade the site was down, and that we had another site just 3 miles up the very same road. He looked like he was about to spit on me, and then muttered a racial slur (effing-Mexican) at me, which startled me as I am not Mexican. He and his buddy took off in a squeal of tires, running over my cones. Anyway, about 2 hours later, upgrade is done, station is open, I am monitoring the computer to make sure everythign works, there's like 5 cars at the station, and Jim-boy and Jack come back in their godawfully ugly pickup. From inside the equipment closet, I watch him run his card, enter his pin code, authorize the sale of Diesel, put the nozzle into his truck, then I shut the Diesel pump off manually. He was there for about 5 minutes, trying to figure out what's going on, but the card reader kept saying Zero Gallons Purchased. He eventually drove off without a word (and I hope he ran out of gas in the middle of the desert). I reported the incident to my boss, turns out the gas card this jerk was using was a company gas card assigned to a white delivery-type minivan. Their account was cancelled for violation of terms of contract.
Not being Hispanic, I was more offended by his disrespect more than his racial attack (which didn't faze me), but I understood that the limits of his intellect prevent him from seeing the world around him in anything other than whites-only for everything, leftovers for everyone else. I would imagine if I was Hispanic, that things could have gotten really ugly (I was armed at the time).
So, iGlock, I can see where you are coming from, and all I ask is to look at it from the outside. That's what I do. Now, it doesn't bother me at all, especially since I answer to an authority with a higher jurisdiction than local police or the SO.