I'm A Racist
Written on Mar 08


Hi, my name is Nick. Not only am I an asshole, but apparently according to the African-American gentleman wearing the Houston Rockets throw-back jersey, I'm also a "fucking racist".

I find that statement offensive and more or less bothersome. I pride myself on the fact that I dislike most everybody, regardless of their ethnicity. But to this annoyed guy, I was probably nothing more than a shit talking cracker. That's fine with me. I bet if he knew I was the author of this web site, he'd label me as a shit -writing- cracker.

Yeah, the story.

As most of my readers know, I live in a ghetto neighborhood. It's not quite South Central L.A., but with all the shitbags living around here, it's pretty damn close. Most of the people that come into my store after 10pm usually either buy liquor, buy cigarettes, or try to steal something. (Mostly the latter). So when someone leaves their car running and lights on in front of the store, my internal thief detector starts going haywire. Anyways, an African American male gets out of the running car, walks into the store, looks at everybody and then briskly walks out. He comes back into the store two minutes later and tries to be sneaky by walking all the way around the store to reach the liquor aisle. He wasn't that sneaky because all the baggers on shift know about this trick. So a bagger followed him to see if he needed help. Actually he followed him to spy on him, but we have to look like we're good at customer service. The man took offense to the bagger following him and they began to exchange some very impolite words. The man said he was upset that the bagger was "profiling him" and "following him around the store".

I'm out of the picture as this is happening. I was down one of the aisles stocking and was oblivious to what was going on near the liquor section. My supervisor and I were talking about thieves and crack heads as I was stocking, and I guess the guy heard our conversation at one point or another and took offense to me using the word "crack head" to describe somebody. The man was threatening the bagger and generally talking shit. I asked him what the problem was and offered to help him, but he wanted to speak to my supervisor. Done. The supervisor came over and tried to calm him down. The guy was upset because we were treating him like a criminal. We were just trying to explain our policy of "prevention before intervention". He had a hard time understanding big words, so we started using simple words that even 4-year-old-down-syndrome children would understand. Right around this time the guy looked over at ME, pointed, and a dialogue insued:

"Your fucking racist too man."
"What?"
"You were talking about crack heads and that shit is offensive to me man. You don't say shit like that when you're at work."
"Uhh, ok. Wasn't the store closed?"
"That's racist dog, you don't say shit like that-"
"How is me referring to crack heads offensive unless you're a crack head?"
"You and your supervisor are both racists, man"


Actually we weren't being racist, we were being stereotypical. But I'm not really trying to be politically correct.

He began to ignore me and target my supervisor. I guess he thought it was illegal for people to keep an eye on him. Hmm. Airports watch people for good reason, so do flight schools, and so do grocery stores in high-theft areas. It makes sense to me. He thought because he was African-American that we were trying to give him a hard time. That wasn't the case at all. Besides, the bagger who followed him was a dark Hispanic kid. When I shop after 10pm at night, I get followed and profiled alot, but I don't throw a tantrum about it. Moreover, the President asked me to "remain vigilant". This guy could have been a fucking terrorist! I was just doing my job as a vigilant American. Hah.

The supervisor, bagger, and myself all dealt with this clown for over 20 minutes. Simple reasoning with him failed and he just kept uttering, "Whatever dog, whatever". He said he was going to get us fired. He wanted to speak to the store manager and wanted our names. That's cool with us, so we gave him the information he wanted. It's been nearly a week and he hasn't called our manager or company yet. Hmm, I wonder why?

I thought I was a racist...

This story was touched-up and errors were fixed on June 21, 2003. There was some typos, grammatical errors, and other fuck-ups. I'll try not to write stories when I'm drunk anymore.


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