Today I was called a racist.
I was at our usual coffee shop when an R&B song came on and I thought, “Hmm, that would be good for my class.” Since I didn’t have my phone to Shazam it, I looked around and noticed that a customer was singing along. I went up to him and said, “It looks like you know what song this is, do you know the name?” It was something by Eve.
I sat down and made a mental note. The owner of the placed walked by and I commented that his new employee dresses really nicely and adds a classy touch to the place. He was wearing a fedora, suspenders and nice trousers.
One of the regulars at the community table with me and Lonny said, “Well, those were two borderline racist interactions.”
What? No! Some of my best friends are black! (haha) Just kidding, not really, well kinda, no, I mean, I happen to be very close with two out of the five people of color in this whole lily white town. NOT THAT IT MATTERS.
I asked him to explain. He said that it was racist of me to ask the customer about the song because he’s black and I was assuming that he knew who the singer of the song was because it was a “black” song. I was all, “Uh, no. I asked him about the song because he was singing along and chances are that he knew the title because he knew the lyrics.” Duh.
Then he said it was racist of me to comment on the employee’s nice clothes because he is black, too, and somehow it is racial profiling to complement a black man on a fedora.
I’ll admit to complementing the barista on his clothes because he looked hot but it wasn’t because he was black. I just happen to dig hot black men, and hot Asian men, and Hispanic men, and hot bald white guys. I’ve also been known to ogle women of all races as well. OH MY GOD! I AM BIASED TOWARDS HOT PEOPLE! Fucking sue me.
Fortunately Lonny was there and I was like, “Am I losing my mind or is he completely talking out his ass?”
“That would be the butt, Bob.”
Ah Boulder, we are so concerned with being politically correct that we are paralyzed with fear. This dude has been here so long that he doesn’t know what an actual racist looks like. Perhaps he should turn on the news.
Here is something else that is bugging me.
Pee-Pee Pooper Scooper? Don’t you mean Poo-Poo Pooper Scooper? This is irritating.
And this hoppy looking little flower. What is it? Will it grown in a container? I want one for my yard!
Time to cut the crap.
I was feeling all put upon as a stay-at-home mom as I endured another day at the park, getting jack-shit done and keeping my eye on my kids so they wouldn’t drown in the creek. But then I got home to see that Lonny had stripped Scrotus’s bed, vacuumed under the bunk and removed the last of the Flor tiles. That’s crappy work. The park wasn’t so bad in comparison. Thanks, babe.
The last thing I need in this world is a Zombie Survival Guide. I am paranoid and prone to survivalist hoarding without scary works of fiction to fuel my flame. Maximum City and The Glass Palace were recommended by my prison pen-pal. I’m sorry man, I couldn’t get through them. He’s a lifer and reads some very interesting and dense books. Only rarely do our tastes intersect. SELL/DONATE.
Another Whacky bites the dust, hence why I was in the pet section at the grocery store today getting incensed by stupid shit scooper brands. TRASH.
Featured image courtesy of www.therightperspective.org