Bad Date

“Say, you’re not like…black-black…you know?”

She makes this awkward statement,

Unaware of how much of my patience

she’s already testing.

Now, every time someone hits me with this,

they always seem to miss

the social cues such as 1) me shifting ever so uncomfortably in my seat,

2) me shuffling my feet,

3), 4), 5),

I clinch my fists, squint my eyes,

and try with all my might to count to five

before I end up slapping her upside

her head.

___________________________________________

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Knowing damn well that they’re expecting me to wear the very mask

they’ve grown up seeing in the off-chance that their televisions

show a hint of color in between their 24-hour transmissions

of shows

full of people who resemble 50 shades of snow.

“Well, I mean…you’re not like…a nigger, because you don’t rap.”

There it is, the slap

in the face I was waiting for.

This, is when I have to choose which door

to enter. Do I explain the technicality

that most people believe it’s two different words and, in reality,

none of them are restricted to rappin’?

___________________________________________

Should I go on a tirade

to explain it was the actions

of European trade transactions

carried overseas

and people, with rappers, aim to change the negativity

into an endearing, uplifting term crammed into our frequencies?

The problem is, I would likely scare her away.

That’s despite my calm demeanor and trying my best not to say

she’s ignorant more than…hmm five times,

she, like everyone so far, would turn dumb, deaf, and blind,

and will just tell her friends about that angry nigger

she was on a date with.

___________________________________________

“But they always laugh on TV, go figure

I find the one that’s so stiff

(and not in the good way, if you catch my drift).”

You see, these are constant scenarios

I’ve had to deal with, battling multiple types of stereos

stating that there are rules I must abide by

but oddly I am never on the right side

of that thin line.

I thought about walking out.

I wanted to leave, providing absolutely no doubt

that what she said was incredibly stupid

and I’ll feel like I stood strong

after humoring her for so long

but…do you wanna what the honest truth is?

My luck with women hasn’t been so great

and, well, she is pretty so…maybe this isn’t THAT bad of a date?

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