Hot garbage fire

I went out on what I thought was the worst date humanly possible.

Toothless shows up, was perfectly respectful until he started mocking East Indian culture in an assortment of ways I don’t care to rehash. Let me start by saying I talk a lot. This date, I said, maybe, twelve sentences over the course of two and a half hours. There was an exhibit at the observatory that I’d been wanting to go to so I suggested we go to that.

Impulsivity strikes again.

He talked the entire time. No pause for breath, no slide into asking me about myself, he would not shut up. While managing to insult Indian culture he went on and on about this Indian practice he was mastering to re-harness his energy by only eating fruit to increase his water intake. Of course he was also a master sniper, master at several different forms of martial arts, could fix any and all farm equipment, trucks. Blah, blah, blah. 

I didn’t bring a ruler. This is not a dick measuring competition. The worst part, when we were at the exhibit, he interrupted the university educated volunteers and tried to state he knew more about space than they did.

I could have slapped him he was being so arrogant. I actually COUNTED the minutes until he dropped me off home. I do not ghost people, but I didn’t have the energy to explain to him why the date did not go well.

I gave up for almost two weeks or so, stuck my head in the sand and focused on roller derby. It was a bank holiday in Canada so Saturday afternoon boredom kicked in, found a date for Sunday night after talking to this guy most of Saturday.

Cutting right to the point: The most racist piece of shit I’ve ever met. That’s the long and short of it. We opted to go for a walk so I was stuck with him. Fifteen minutes in he starts sprouting this shit about how hard whites have it, how the term Caucasian is racist and how, ‘his black friends let him use the ‘n’ word’. I let him continue for about 10 minutes before I calmly told him that on a fundamental level he was wrong and what he was saying was racist. What he had discussed between his friends was what it was, but he cannot be so presumptuous to assume that he can ‘take back’ a word rooted in intolerance and oppression. He wanted to debate it, I said no, he was wrong. We ended up yelling at each other and he wanted to just walk away but we were stuck walking together, in silence…for another twenty five minutes because it was dark and I didn’t know where the hell my car was.

I ended up breaking down and crying in my car out of frustration and anger. He denoted my intelligence because I refused to educate him on Why White People Can’t Use the N-Word. Just Google it. If you have black friends, who will still speak to you after having the standpoint that you’re entitled to use it, ask them about their negative experiences with white people using this word. It’s not a friendly term of endearment for white people to use for the black friends. And if you’re unsure, DON’T FUCKING USE IT AT ALL.

Don’t get me wrong, I have had conversations about race with individuals who seemed open-minded to discussing discourse and representation, but racism is kind of like hot garbage fire, sometimes you have to be close enough to smell it.


2 thoughts on “Hot garbage fire

  1. Wow. Chatterboxes like that are the worst, just running at the mouth like verbal diarrhea. That’s one of my biggest pet peeves, fighting for airtime like that. At least with the racist you could get a word in edgewise.

    You do roller derby?


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