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 Aldi?
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."
