The Racist Sh*t We Step In
There’s a lot worse than stepping in some racist dookie, y’all — for realz!
I’m serious, doh. You ever have an interaction with somebody and you can just smell the racism emanatin’ off them like stink lines on a Robert Crumb illustration and shit? I was on one of the apps and I see this guy who looked familiar. I may have met him or maybe I seen him out at the clubs or whatever. Detroit’s a big city geography-wise, but it’s a small town. The queer community small, fo’ sho’. I’ve been looking at the same forty-ass thumbnails the past ten years. I know all these faces. They ain’t changed at all.
Anyway, back to the story. I ask this guy from the yellow app with the cat face, if we met, and he was like “I doubt it.” Shady! Now, he coulda’ meant a lot from that, but it just smacked of, “I don’t know any niggas, so I sure as fuck don’t know your black ass!” That might o’ just been my read, but for realz, y’all, you get a nose for some racist ass bullshit when you grew up in Amerka. You have to! It’s a matter of your survival. You have to know the place that’s not safe to be in ‘cause people thinking about draggin’ your ass out into the woods and starting a bon fire.
It’s usually not that drastic. Usually it’s standing at the counter, waiting your turn, and then having the clerk skip you to call on the White person who just walked in, even though you been standing there ten minutes. It’s usually about not being seen, which I guess is preferable to being singled out and targeted with some racist vileness. Being ignored can feel a like violence, doh. Getting dismissed can feel pretty brutal as well.
I think of it like this: You know how you’re walking down the street and find a big bill—big enough you know somebody is kicking themself for losing it. That’s how I think of myself. I’m that big bill only somebody who pays enough attention where they going will be lucky enough to find. The rest of the people can rush along. In the meantime, I can just remember to enjoy myself. I can spend me on me.
Anybody got time to be mean or dismissive, probably ain’t got time for the joy or the love I got. I hope you get yours.
