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2019-09-09 - 3:35 a.m.

As I was about to enter the party I looked through the window into the kitchen and saw all of my friends hovering around a black girl. I quickly turned around and went back to my car. I sat inside it for forty five minutes contemplating what I should do, knowing full well that after I smoked six cigarettes I was most certainly going to leave.
I couldn't take it anymore, I've seen how my friends behave around black people and I just couldn't watch it again. They were probably talking to her about Diff'rent Strokes, RUN DMC, or some other nugget of antiquated black culture they were familiar with, and it was going to be fucking embarrassing. Some one was going to bring up the racism that Obama has to deal with and that would then lead into a discussion about how groundbreaking and necessary that new slavery movie is.
With out a doubt, some people's voices and speech patterns were going to change. Suddenly someone would be dropping letters from words while another person would astonishingly use slang you had never heard them speak before.
I don't know who would be cringing more, me or her, but I just wasn't ready to deal with it again. Especially in a party setting. Even worse, I was expected to perform at this shindig and you and I both know that some part of my act would mysteriously be considered racist by a white person in the present company. I get that a lot, Caucasians thinking I'm racist because they can't tell the difference between "Racist" humor and "Racial" humor. They then would bring attention to something I said taking it out of context and white knight the whole evening as the black person stands there defending me.
It's all too vulgar and I wasn't going to sit through it again.
Unfortunately all of that was going to be the best case scenario, because I also saw them opening up the wine bottles and I knew exactly what direction the twilight was going to nosedive into.
Someone was going to get a little sauce in them and believe themselves to be affable and do some 80's Eddie Murphy stand up bits. Another person was going to bend their elbow to the point of bravery and attempt to use the "N" word with the "A" a the end instead of the "ER", claiming it was a term of endearment. This would lead to one individual in particular going into a monologue about how the "N" word isn't racist at all and actually refers to a person of despicable character.
At some point a white girl is going to ask to touch her hair.
No, I can't do it. I'm turning the key in the ignition and driving back home. I won't answer my phone for the rest of the night and tomorrow I'll make up some excuse about an anxiety attack and everyone will just joke about me being flaky.
I know my friends aren't racist. Not intentionally at least. They're just not around a lot of African Americans. It's not a choice, there are just different social circles dictated by common interests and sadly there simply are not a lot of black people in Pennsylvania with similar ones. No one ever planned it that way, it just happened.
Still, it's not my problem and I'm not going to uncomfortably redirect conversations all night long and suffer through the awkward silences that shouldn't be there and praying for the ones that should when people refuse to shut up.
When I got home that night I smoked a bowl of Blue Dream and listened to depression era Duke Ellington recordings. I looked at the stars even more self righteous than usual thinking about how my cracker friends don't even know who Ralph Ellison IS.
I then tried to convince myself that I wasn't like all of those other white people as I ate a carton of Ben & Jerry's watching a marathon of Friends.

 

 

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