Sunday, November 7, 2010

Some Of My Best Friends Are White

Well, it's the holiday season. That means I'm about to be busier than a toothless hooker on pay day. As soon as November 1st rolled around, the cake, pie, and banana pudding orders started pouring in. Oh, I'm not complaining because I sure as shit appreciate the money. The banana pudding recipe I use is an easy, no-cook recipe that I got from the Food Network. I tell people this and still they would rather pay me $25 to make one for them than just pay $10 for the ingredients and make it themselves. Who the fuck am I to stop them from giving me their money?

Anyway, I didn't come on here to talk about dessert; I just wanted you to know why my posts may or may not be few and far between for the next two months.

What I really want to talk about is something that happened to me at the grocery store yesterday. That's a bit melodramatic; nothing happened to me. I just had a curious encounter with a bitch at a market.

Are you familiar with AldiStore Locator
It's a discount grocery store with franchises all over the world. If you shop for more than two items at a time, it will be necessary for you to "rent" a shopping cart for twenty-five cents. After your shopping is done and your bags are loaded safely in your car, you return the cart to the corral, stick the little chain thingy in the slot on the handle, and your quarter is returned to you. If, upon returning my cart, I notice another shopper about to enter the store, I'll offer them the one I have and they'll give me their quarter.

I'm bored to tears, too, but I had to make sure you knew what I was talking about before I told you the story. Okay, so I saw this family of three about to get a cart as I was returning mine. I offered them my cart and they took it. The husband thanked me and offered me a big smile. The kid even gave me an appreciative grin. The mother, who neither smiled nor thanked me, positioned the quarter about a foot away from my hand and dropped it into my palm. She then raised her hand even higher and moved her whole arm in a backward arc (away from me) before dropping her arm to her side. She took painstaking care in making sure she did not touch my hand. Then she pursed her lips, wrapped her jacket tightly around her bosom, and walked into the store.

When I go grocery shopping, I try to dress as comfortably as possible. I am buying food for a family of six at several different stores and that shit can take forever. So I'll be damned if I'm going in there in my Sunday best only to smell like a mixture of seafood and laundry detergent by the time I leave. But there is no way I looked like the kind of person that you wouldn't want to touch.

The first thing I thought was, "No, bitch, the black doesn't rub off." Then I thought that was a little unfair. Having that thought made me realize that I can be overly sensitive, thinking that white people are judging me all the time. Logically, I know that's not true. My head knows that most people, regardless of race, have way too much shit to deal with everyday to bother themselves with my weave, or lack thereof, my parenting skills, or my grammar. But my heart worries about it just the same. I know, it's sad. I didn't even realize how much the opinions of Caucasians mattered to me until now. And here I was thinking I was evolved.

When I was a little girl, my mother could take a lot of our crap, but she would kill us if we embarrassed her in front of white people. One of her favorite things to say was, "Child, if you embarrass me in front of these white people, so help me God, I will beat the black off you." And she wasn't bullshitting either, so we sat our asses down and acted like we 'had some sense.' Parents sometimes don't realize how much impact their words and actions have on their children. I'm damned near forty (don't EVER tell anybody I told you that) and I'm still afraid to embarrass my dead mother in front of the white people.

I understand that this probably makes some of you uncomfortable, but if we don't talk about our differences, we'll always be afraid of them. Where the hell has that fear gotten us so far? I don't know about you, but I can't fucking stand being afraid.

Now back to my new best friend. I've come up with some (semi) PC reasons why this uptight woman didn't dare graze my hand with hers:

1. She doesn't know my ass. I'm not too keen on touching strangers either, so how the hell can I be mad at her?
2. She's a crazy germaphobe. You know those people who are afraid to even leave the house because of all the potential germs they might meet. She did seem awful pristine for the grocery store.
3. She thought I was evil. You think maybe I scared her with the huge gothic cross I sometimes wear around my neck? You know, you can't be too leery of people who don't wear 'normal' religious paraphernalia.
4. She was overwhelmed by my sexy. And who the fuck isn't?
5. Maybe, and I am leaning toward this one, she thought, "Eek! There's a big, sexy black bitch I don't know wearing the goddamn mother of gothic crosses! Think of all the fucking germs she must have!"

Feel free to post any reasons you might come up with. I don't offend easily, so have the fuck at it. Afterwards, we'll hold hands and sing, "We Are The World."


  1. Maybe she was afraid of catching oh-no-you-din't-neck.

    It is contagious, you know.

    I caught it when I lived in the Bronx from all the sisters. They schooled much into this little white 16 year old ladyboy, actually. It's been decades and to this day, when I get mad, I lose all control of my neck. I am like a pissed off bobble head in rush hour traffic.

    Or maybe she just sensed your don't-fuck-with-me-bitchery and was afraid you'd bust out into a probably well deserved game of grit ball?

  2. @Rabbit- That neck thing IS catching, but you know what else it is? A naturally occurring phenomena! When my 9-year-old, smartass that she is, is lighting into one of her brothers, you should see her neck going.
    Market bitch needn't have worried about grit ball. I reserve that for lovers with a tendency to slip and fall into unsuspecting punany. Just ask hubby how many games of that shit we've played over the years. His ass hardly has any of his own skin left.

  3. "Eek! There's a big, sexy black bitch I don't know wearing the goddamn mother of gothic crosses! Think of all the fucking germs she must have!"...Awesomely funny! Love your work...don't particularly like that white woman that you 'didn't' come in contact with tho :)

  4. "His ass hardly has any of his own skin left."

    As well it should be. You were raised right.

  5. @Miss Vicki- Let's cut the uptight bitch a break. She can't help her gluteolacunosity (not my word, thank the Empress for her bitchin' word generating skills It means assholeness. Don't you love it?

    @Rabbit- "You know my mama didn't raise no fool," I say as I simultaneously twirl my neck in a tight, counterclockwise circle and roll my eyes to the back of my head.

  6. Shit like that makes my skin crawl. If I would have witnessed that crap I would gone kung-fu on her ass and slapped her ass back the hell into last Sunday. Seriously WTF is wrong with some people?

    Maybe you should have stared at her with a big goofy grin on your face and then pulled up your pant legs and said "oooh, I got new socks, wanna see em? They're purty aren't they?" all while you kept on with the goofy smiling ... and then perhaps topped off the performance with a a bit of drool running down the corner of your mouth.

    On another note, all your talk of pie, cake and banana pudding sounds delish and is making my hungry!!

    Much love. xo

  7. Saw a germaphobe at the shops just the other day. Had herself a mask and gloves and all. Mrs Hyde, I reckon she was just in awe of your total awesomeness. Pity her mother didn't teach her some manners.

  8. @The Empress- Let me paint a pic of what was happening as I read your comment this morning. I can barely see my hand in front of my face without my contacts, so if I want to read something before I put them in, I have to hold it really close to my face and close one eye to focus. While I had my blackberry a couple inches from my face, my daughter comes in the room and says, "Mom...are you okay?" She's speaking slowly as if I just fell off the back of a truck. "Yes. Why?" I ask. "Because you're lying in bed laughing with your eyes squeezed shut and your phone on your face." Nuff said.

    @Mynx- Bad manners! I didn't even think of that one. And yes, my awesomeness does throw people for a loop occasionally. ;)

    I sure missed all of you this past week and I promise to catch up on all of your posts!

  9. Benefit of the doubt #1: She's an OCD germophobe who can't touch other people. She keeps a large bottle of hand sanitizer in her purse and in her car and will use it immediately. Of course, the quarter has more germs on it than someone's hand, but we won't tell her that...
    B of the d #2: She's just discovered hubby's cell phone has text messages on it to several women who are NOT her. She doesn't know who these women are but the messages indicate that hubby knows them pretty darn well! YOU could be one of them!
    B of the d #3: She woke up this morning feeling sick and asked hubby if he'd do the shopping. Hubby feigned ignorance (what's an artichoke again?) and she ended up having to go to the store feeling ill and feverish. She didn't want to pass the germs on to you.
    Probable reason: She's an uptight bitch with a stick up her clenched white ass. She's hasn't had a good fuck in months if not years and is pissed off at the world and especially at women who exude awesome sexiness such as your fine self.

  10. Lolamouse, all of those are perfectly plausible reasons. I can personally attest to B of D #'s 2 and 3. That just goes to show you that you never can tell what other people are going through. In the future, though, I will try to contain my sexy.


Bitch with me, will you?