y'all all look the same
Whilst in New Orleeens, I had to find a place to fix my glasses (one of the nose pads broke), so I walked Canal for a bit (just looking for the Walgreens) and happed upon a little optometrist's shop.
In I went.
And while I rarely feel the need to point out a person's race unless absolutely necessary, I must tell you that the woman behind the counter was black. (In this case, it's absolutely necessary that you know this). So were the other two men in the store. One man was a cop; the other, just a man (a black man! *gasp!*)
There I sat while the woman at the counter fixed my glasses. The other two men carried on with their intense intellectual discussion of the N.O. school board, the Baptist church that only cares for the members that tithe the most, and the dumb-ass parents all the kids have these days (the cop fella did an impeccable impression of Bernie Mac; I'm not just saying that because he's black, but I'm sure that contributed to his imitation abilities).
Deep into this conversation, which I am watching passively like a ping pong match, the non-cop turns to me as says: "Man, you from around here?"
"No. I'm from Massachusetts."
"Massachusetts!" (to the cop) "Man he don't need to hear about our dirty laundry down here."
The cop differed: "Nah, he's alright." (to me) "You agreeing with me, aren't you?"
I honestly nodded yes.
"Hrmmp," said the non-cop.
When it came time to pay, the woman said: "We don't take charge cards. You'll have to go to the ATM around the corner."
I went (blindly) to the ATM. About 3 or 4 minutes later I get back, cash in hand. The cop was gone (likely getting his eyes examined by now). Just the woman and the non-cop remained, chatting quietly at the counter.
As I entered, the non-cop did a double-take at me, then turned to the woman and asked: "Was that the guy who was just in here."
Both the woman and I said "Yes."
He says to me: "Man, y'all all look the same."
A fat, Pinteresque pause. The woman's facial muscles gave in and her jaw swung open like a loose loop of rope. ("You so wrong," I think I heard her mutter nearly without breath.)
As soon as I got my feet back under me, I inquired: "People from Massachusetts look alike?"
He laughed. "Yeah! All you Northern people look the same."
The woman said to me: "Don't listen to him. He's just rude."
His rebuttal: "C'mon. I bet when you first walked in you thought all us black folk in here looked the same."
As I put on my glasses and headed out, I pointed to the woman and said: "Yeah, but I can tell you apart because at least she's good lookin."
