Pudgy Indian

I stopped to fill up my tank on the way to pick up Felicia and her friend. A black man was pumping gas and we immediately got to talking about the racism of white folks against people of color, like us.

He told me a white man told him to go back to where he came from. He asked the white man if he was of Euro descent, and he said you. He told him to go back where he came from. The white man, having that wonderful white American male intelligence (or lack there of) said he was American and was from here. The black man told him he didn't see any native blood in him, so he should go back to the country where he came from, too.

We also discussed the fact that there are very few people of color in futuristic science fiction films and TV series. Of course, the reason is because whitey is hoping to have us gone by then ("thus solving the persistent Indian problem.").

I told him about playin', "Gonna get me a shotgun and kill all the whities I see," sony by Garrett Morris from Saturday Night Live on the radio and being called racist. "Yep," he tells me. "White folks don't listen when we complain about racism but when we say something that is the least bit racist they call US the racists." Ain't that the way it is? You can point out the myriad of ways white folks are racist against people of color and they just ain't havin' it. But once say anything back that is racist against whites even to get them to see your point...BAM!...we get labelled the racist. And since we are the racists, that means whitey is no longer obligated to look at and deal with their racism; institutional, overt, or otherwise.

Another customer came, and I had to go, and I didn't even get the guys name. "And so it goes." I'll get it next time. It was just funny that me and this black man just start hittin' it about racism like we've known each other for a long time. Then again...maybe we do.