Lazy Racist Friday
So, I’ll save it until Monday.
Anyway, here’s some bullshit for your reading pleasure:
1) Re: Comments
I don’t respond to them. Don’t get me wrong, I love getting them, but I’m not good at responding to them. People sometimes ask questions and/or make suggestions and might feel a little insulted that I have not addressed them, but it’s just something I don’t do. Not because I don’t want to or I think you’re stupid, but because (in case you haven’t already noticed) I’m really fucking lazy. I have emails in my inbox from friends in Ireland and London from months ago that I have yet to respond to. But please continue to leave comments. I assure you they are all momentarily taken into consideration before I get too lazy to remember them.
2) Re: Response to a comment
Someone left a comment a while ago asking if I/we have ever experienced racism. Racism has never been much of an issue for us, seeing as white people are the minority in New York City, but there are a few funny stories/dynamics of racism that I would like to point out.
a) People from "Out of Town":
When B still lived with the fam in Queens, I came home very late/early one night/day to find him outside with Dog. As I approached, he burst into laughter.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“This guy, this trucker,” he gasped in between laughs.
“What? What did he do!?”
“He-he called me a chink!”
Apparently, a trucker drove past the house and saw B sitting in front letting Dog out for a piss. At this, the trucker pulled over momentarily in front of him, scowled at him, pointed and screamed, “Chink!” before peeling away.
“Was he kidding? Was he fucking with you?” Now I’m laughing.
“No! That’s the funny part. He was dead-serious. He looked at me with this absolute...hatred!”
In conclusion, if you’re racist in New York, we laugh at you ‘cause you is dumb.
b) People who fight:
Without fail, there is always one situation in which a person who would otherwise never be racist suddenly morphs into a bigot. The New York City Drunken Fight. If you ever happen to be out and about on a Friday or Saturday evening and are unfortunate enough to find yourself witness to an inter-racial outside-the-club/bar/lounge drunken brawl, undoubtedly, you’ll observe that racial slurs will be thrown much more than actual punches. When people begin to engage in “beef” or “throwing down” or whatever manner of idiotic drunken debauchery involving inflicting physical harm upon another, the obligatory “poppin’ shit” must occur first. Drunk people find it difficult to dig into the recesses of their mind for clever and offensive verbal slings often resulting in such gems as “Whatchu say muthafukka?” and “I’ll fuckin’ keel you!” and “Youse a punk-ass bitch!” As this back-and-forth escalates, they begin to grasp blindly for something more offensive. Often, once someone has successfully dragged race into the dialogue with a random shout of “Chink!” or “N*gger!” actual physical contact will commence. It’s a pretty sad state of affairs, especially when they undoubtedly go home to their yellow/white/black/brown/blue girlfriends later and recount the tale sans, “and then I told that motherfucker to go back to China!”
c) Curious people:
This isn’t actually racism, but I still found it rather amusing. During my stint in Ireland, I went to the middle-of-bumblefuck-nowhere (aka Longford) to visit my Dublin Ex’s family. This was a part of Ireland that consisted primarily of farmers and towns with populations of no more than 2,000. We went out to a local bar one night to have a few drinks and I noticed that he kept looking around uncomfortably. I finally turned around to find that everyone in the bar was staring at me.
“Why are they looking at me?” I lean in and whisper.
“They’ve never seen an Asian person before.”
“Maybe on TV.”
By the way, this girl made my day. Note the title of the chapter she took her excerpt from "Braun and Blood." Also note this definition of the word "braun." Oh you silly models!