Monday, August 15, 2005

New Cindy Spot this week, I swear. But first...

Yesterday a guy asked me for some money to get some food; you know the kind of guy I mean, homeless and bedraggled. That's not what bothered me - it's that he played the "Help a brother out, be a good black man" card on me.

I did give him some money, but I did give him a very brief lecture on not pulling that stuff first. It always pisses me off that some people want to play on some kind of fictional relationship that your skin colour gives you; years and years and years ago, one girl who was at Harrison College with me and who was also from England said she didn't have to like everyone from England, and though she was an unpleasant little bitch in retrospect (and probably at the time) she has a point.

Anyway, the next time some black guy asks me for something like that and tries that tack, I'll... probably give him a pound or two.

I hate myself.


The Archivist said...

You hate yourself because you were human and allowed yourself to be swayed by 'some kind of fictional relationship' and will probably do so again?

All Hail King Butcher! said...

I would've yelled something along the lines of "F--- off, n----, I got plenty of money because I got a job and a house! I was going to give you some money, but the same way I don't get a piece of Shaq's check is the same way you don't get a piece of mine!"

I'm mean sometimes.