Dammit. On Top of Everything Else, I Think I'm a Racist.

I'm not sure if anyone has seen this, but apparently earlier this year, a professor at Boise State decided that this would be a great idea to post on her Facebook account.  Here's the kicker...she's black...and the head of the CULTURAL CENTER.  Fantastic.  Yet another reason Facebook is about as effective at lowering IQs as a mule kick to the head, or 5 minutes of watching the Kardashians.  And seriously, why is Pam Grier so angry at this kid?  You'd have thought he was using her afrosheen for lube because from the sight of him he's a chronic masturbator.  Maybe he got caught at work grating the cheese ("Grating the cheese"?? Jesus God what is wrong with me.  I've made him out to be some weird freak of nature with a penis that for some reason has the consistency of a block of cheddar cheese, and he gets off on it shredding in his hands.  After lubing them with afrosheen.  Wait, what am I talking about...he's the weirdo, not me.  Freak.).  And Christ kid, what are you doing running your mouth while she's talking?  EVERYONE knows the first thing you do when a black woman is yelling at you is you shut your mouth.  The second is don't make eye contact.  You're doing both, you dumb bastard.  No wonder you're getting your ass handed to you.  And lastly, what the hell is Black Princess Leia doing in the background?  Two things sista gurl:  1.  Your weave is falling out of one of your Leia side hair buns.  A weave which by all appearances must have come from the yarn section at Michael's.  2.  If you're going to unbutton the top 12 buttons on your blouse, make sure you have something to back it up with.  I mean seriously woman, you have the same body as a 12 year old boy, which normally is a good thing except you're not a boy.  Or Cambodian.  Or wearing a Snuggie with five holes cut out of the front.

So yesterday we had new carpet installed.  Well, as much as we could afford.  Got the cheapest carpet we could, and what turned out to be one of the nicest contractors I've ever met.  Olwaldo was his name. Good guy.  Quick, got the job done.  Very happy with the results.  But during the time he and his assistant were there, I spent quite a bit of time second guessing everything I was doing in order not to be deemed insensitive.  But in the end, I think the fact I even THOUGHT of these things confirmed exactly what I was trying to avoid.  I'll explain.

That's Olwaldo.  He said "chinga". 

So when the guys got there, I offered them water.  Something I would have done for any contractor.  It doesn't matter their race, ethnicity or gender.  In fact, I take particular care to offer those of the female gender many different options of fluids.  Normally I am rebuffed. Which is why the carpet needed to be changed in the first place.  Many stains and such.  Regardless, I think I was a solid citizen at this point, so:

OFFERING WATER: +5 Tolerance Points. 

The basis of a completely unnecessary mental tug-of-war.

Soon it became time for lunch.  The carpet guys had been working for two hours, and had not taken a break.  Only one had even taken me up on my water offer.  But I was hungry.  Very hungry.  So I went to the fridge and saw the components for one of my best snacks, the breakfast burrito.  Taco seasoned beef, eggs, shredded cheese, tortillas, salsa.  I started to take out the ingredients, but froze.  I thought, "Shit.  What if the carpet guys smell the taco seasoned beef? Will they think I'm rubbing it in their faces that I'm sitting here eating burritos while they're working on carpet?  God, what do I do?"  In the end, I decided to fight fire with fire and heat up fried chicken.  

GOING WITH FRIED CHICKEN INSTEAD OF BURRITOS:  -15 Tolerance Points + 5 point penalty for not only stereotyping Mexican laborers, but unemployed black people as well.

I polished off the meal with a bag of chili cheese fritos. In fact you can see part of the chicken bone underneath the bag...a bone which I apparently scraped clean like a savage.  Anyway, the point is, well, how do I say this...I got the chili cheese fritos, and paused a bit before opening it, because, well, I kind of thought that...hmmm...well you know how chili is, um 

THINKING CHILI CHEESE FRITOS ARE AT ALL "MEXICAN":  -50 Tolerance Points.

UM.....

- 35 Tolerance Points.

So after they had left, I started to think about it.  I think I am a racist.  A passive/aggressive racist who doesn't know what he's saying or doing until it's too late.  I thought of some examples of my past experiences, and, well, you tell me if any of these are wrong:

- I tried to pay the Mexican guys who did my carpet in gift certificates to Taco Bell and a used sombrero.

- I went to a Chinese restaurant and ordered the chow mein, but then for some reason asked the waiter if he could also get the stain out of my shirt.

- I stood at the finish line of the Chicago Marathon with an "I love Kenya" banner and a bowl of rice pudding.

- I lobbied to have the African-American parade in town sponsored by the State Unemployment Office and Menthol cigarettes.

- For some reason at the St. Patrick's Day parade, I told this red-headed guy next to me, "You know, I like to get drunk on weekdays too.  And I love tweed."

- This Japanese kid came to me and asked where the nearest McDonalds was.  I said if he opened his eyes, he'd see that it was...

- I went to a Greek wedding and apparently I was the asshole for trying to sell laser hair removal services.

- There was a long line at the post office, and I needed a beer, so I asked the nice Arab guy next to me if he could recommend a good party store.

- We went out for spaghetti and I told the waiter that out of appreciation for the Italians, I bought my daughter Super Mario Brothers.  And Season One of Jersey Shore.

- I went on a tour of the Grand Canyon, and told my Native American guide that I always thought they were the "real Indians", and not those cow-lovers from India.  Then I turned to the people in the group from India and told them I was just bullshitting this dude, because real Indians don't screw me at Blackjack.

No, I don't have a problem.