It's Not a Black Thing

I was waiting in line at Winco, behind a lady that was buying 15 vitamin waters and a loaf of French bread. She reminded me of Snooki from Jershey Shore in a way, except this lady made Snooki look like Bar Rafaeli. She was black, which has nothing and everything to do with this post. Her total came to $16 and some change. SOME....change, yet she proceeded to pull out a few sweaty dollar bills from her pancaked cleavage (yes, a contradiction in terms). I counted about $8, and then she pulled out a ziploc bag full of coins, mostly copper. She had put her cart in such a way that I could not get my cart by; my items having already been scanned. I was ready to bag. I took my cart behind her (more like lifted it over her head and dropped it on the other side of her) and bagged my stuff, standing behind her waiting....waiting....for her to count out her wishing well change. She turns to me, mid-count, and says, "if I wasn't black, you would be more patient."

Before I give my two cents regarding her comment, Ijust want to say I am color blind. Not in the literal sense, but in the realistic sense. I give two shits what color someone is. I don't lock my car doors around minorities, only skinny, white crack heads. I don't admonish a mexican wondering why everyone thinks mexicans are criminals. I assume that is what he said because he said it in Spanish and I am not bi-lingual, a pre-requisite for 80% of jobs here. God forbid the customers speak English, and I am admonished for bringing up the fact their country of residence is, in fact, AMERICA. But I suffer for not knowing Spanish. Not the time to start this conversation. Point is, black, yellow, red, brown (dark or light), I don't care. I'm not a racist.

A plethora of responses crossed my mind when I was told my impatience for her stupidity had to do with her being black. It had nothing to do with her being black. It could have been the OK 95 shirt she was wearing that had "The Who" tour dates on it from 1987. It might have been the lack of mammary support in a public place, giving me the feeling I was in an IHOP (yes, a flapjack, saggy boob reference). It very well could have been her lack of personal hygiene, a quality dental plan or the sweaty bills; having swabbed a dollar bill in Microbiology and found 3 pathogenic bacteria on it. It could have been her inconsiderate spot where she placed her cart, begging to be the center of attention. No, ma'am, my impatience isn't because you are black, it is because you are dumb. Dumb as the day is long which means after daylight savings time and before the winter solstice you are, most likely by state standards, retarded. I do have sympathy for the unemployed, but about as much patience as I do my 4-year old son while he fears wiping his own ass. Get a job, or get schooling. Either way, finances will improve. Beyond that, STOP WASTING MY FUCKING TIME WITH YOUR GALLON ZIPLOC BAG FULL OF LOOSE CHANGE! Being her, I would imagine, is like being a bag full of dicks. Only good for one thing, and shopping at Winco is NOT IT.

Instead of saying one, two, or a combination of the above, I simply said, "no, I have all the time in the world to prove Darwin was wrong," which brought a long moment of silence, and her inaction as she digested this bit of information like a 5-layer burrito. Thank God the checker said something to the effect of "ma'am, hurry the fuck up." Problem is, he was white too. Might as well been wearing a sheet. Bring on the tirade, Rosa Parks and this lady having a dream. She ended by saying," waht did WE ever do to you (assuming she meant black people). I sauntered up to the debit card machine and said one word.

KANYE....conversation over.