White Guilt: Absolved
I had just gotten off the train and was heading back to my special lady friend’s apartment (which has more or less been “home” for a couple months now), and was busy punching a pointless text message into my phone when a guy stopped me. “Excuse me,” he began. He had a cigarette out, so I figured he was about to ask for a light and was preparing my standard “I don’t smoke” response when he continued. “Can I ask you something?” Well, I didn’t see why he couldn’t and nodded. “We’re Indians,” he began again, motioning towards his two friends. I just stood in silence, waiting for him to finish this thought. Then, as if he was saying something I wouldn’t believe, he finished “Real Indians.”
“Okay…?” I prompted. “All we need is one dollar. Just this one time. Just once. Do you have just one dollar?”
Normally I don’t carry cash, and I’m fully aware of this, but I dutifully check my pockets every time I’m asked for change anyway. But this time I actually DID have change. Since I didn’t even know it was there, I didn’t mind giving it to him. As I fished the coins out, I puzzled over his stressing of the “real Indians” point, finally deciding that he must have meant I owed him reparations. Well, maybe not. But I thought it was funny. I handed him the quarters, which he graciously accepted.
“Please forgive us,” he begged, but I knew what he was really trying to say: “We forgive you.” I turned to leave and he held out his fist. “Hey,” he concluded, “Friendship.” I pounded his fist with my own and returned to my text.
So. I’m forgiven. I don’t know about the rest of you jerks. Seriously, how do you live with yourselves?
July 6th, 2008 at 7:16 pm
I loaned a real black man ten bucks once. And another one like $5. And gave him a ride. What have YOU done for the African American population? Because I use them to balance my shameless neglect of the Native American population. God knows all those injuns really want is fire water, right? Black people have real problems, like car trouble. If it wasn’t the fire water, your little friends (one little, two little, three little Indians, right?) probably needed to buy some oats for their horses and I simply can’t support the refusal to modernize like that.
I really hope hell doesn’t exist.
July 6th, 2008 at 8:42 pm
A REAL black man Caleb. What’s that like? Darker than the fake blacks that walk our streets?
July 6th, 2008 at 9:05 pm
Like REAL Indians.
July 6th, 2008 at 9:30 pm
EXACTLY
DOT NOT FEATHER
July 7th, 2008 at 9:33 am
being hounded day in and day out by people on the street for money gets really old really fast. Especially the same faces you see on the same corner with the same get up and the same schpeel. GET A FUCKING JOB. The time and effort that goes in to fucking mooching on the corner could be spent in actually trying to find a fucking job. I HATE the guilt tripping bull shit too when asked for money and I decide not to give it up.
Just a few weeks ago my “special lady friend” was at a gas station. Some d00d comes up to her and lays down this REALLY sad story on her. He claimed his car had gotten a flat and was in a tire shop (to which he pointed to) and needed 15 bucks to get his car outta the shop. Oh, and his nephew was waiting in the car while his unlce was out trying to get some cash. He told my lady that he’d pay her DOUBLE what she loaned him later that afternoon. So what doe she do, she loans the cock sucker 15 dollars.
There are legitimate people who ARE homeless, and who are down on their luck. But there are WAY more fucking scam artists and worthless moochers on the street then “legitimate” homeless people. Take that 8 hours you spend standing on the fucking corner and go out and find a job.
July 7th, 2008 at 4:56 pm
Yeah, and Mexicans stink!
July 7th, 2008 at 6:34 pm
And then I say something racist!