something special

Okay, so I was going to wait another 12 hours to do this, but why put off what you can do today?

A lot has happened this past week. We lost a few icons in Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson. We even lost the infomercial world's homerun hitter in Billy Mays. Iran is having a revolution and North Korea keeps talking (expletive deleted).

A few personal things happened to me this past week and I believe that it is my duty to share them with you...all three of you that read this.

Like you three know, I've been back in NY for about a week and I've had myself a pretty good time. It's great not having any obligations. This has been nothing more than a mini vacation for me. I've gone out with my roomies (all 6000 of them); ate, drank, and was merry blah blah blah.

Then something happened. I brushed it off because it wasn't that deep...but then like the exact opposite happened. It seemed incredible. Then the worst happened.

Which obviously left me quite perturbed.

But first things first. The first something.
On the 19th (Friday), I'm out a bar where there's karaoke because the roomies love karaoke. Frankly I could care less about karaoke, but afterward, we go to the dollar pizza joint and grab a slice. I'm standing and chatting with three of the roomies (they happened to not be black) when an old black guy asked for a cigarette. I told him that I didn't have one. He then replies "Does it look like I was talking to you?"

I wish I had a fresh pack of cigarettes at that moment and just flashed them in his face, taunting him. I didn't know that he wanted white or hispanic cigarettes only. Do cigarettes even have a race (other than Kool and Newports)?

I call this "Uncle Ruckus" syndrome aka "Revitiligo".

Then a week later, Saturday once again hanging out with people who aren't black. A black man asked only me for change. I was the only who said something at the time. I said that I didn't have any change (which was true), everyone else started to dig in their pockets. Before they are done digging, homeboy leaves faster than he arrived. The thing is that if he stayed, for the nonblack people, he could have scored at least $2 he didn't have.

I call this the "don't trust whitey" syndrome.

The same day...more like 3am. I'm hanging out at a friends apartment with a few friends and two of the roomies. It's late and there's no point in taking the subway from Brooklyn to Queens. So I call a car and it arrives in like five minutes. I walk out the apartment to open the car door for the nonblack roomies (because 1 is female + it was her birthday), and before I even touch the door handle, the driver says "No, no. Not for you, for them."

Did I mention that I was literally flashing money in my hand at the time? No...well I was.

I did clear him on the matter telling him that I was the one who talked to the dispatcher and verified the destination while I continued to flash my $20 bill. I even put on my non-threatening voice (the one that's a full octave higher...you know it)

I call this the "I don't trust black people after midnight" syndrome.

I had never dealt with anything of that nature before in New York...or anywhere for that matter. I've had a shocking race week. Here's to not having anymore.

Later days.