So it seems no matter where I go, no matter what ideological differences I think exists amongst "sub cultures," everyone seems to be the same when it comes to race. Last night I was in line for the bathroom at Splash (a gay bar in the city, near Union Square) and was bombarded by stupidity from this guy who announced he was from DC. After complimenting me sweetly he went on a nonsensical tirade about how he was a "liberal humanitarian" and how he enjoyed meeting a "sistah" in DC, which turned out to be Maya Angelou. The appalling way in which he told me about his love for notable black women was enough to make me throw up all the food I ingested that day. I stood there, staring at him in disbelief, wishing I had enough strength to tell him how incredibly ignorant he was being, but alas, I did not. Instead this guy I had been secretly judging because he looked and sounded like he rolled out of an episode of Jersey Shore saved me. He had been listening to this drunken, bumbling idiot and thankfully interjected, asking the guy to guess his heritage, to which the a-hole strangely responded, "She's my assistant." I theatrically shook my head "no" to let him know I was not affiliated with this moron. Jersey Shore asked me if the guy was bothering me and I mouthed yes with a kind of desperation I never knew I had. He then somehow got the guy to go away by continuously asking him to guess his racial identity. At this point, I too was trying to resolve the question, in my head. Eventually the drunken fool got the clue and stumbled out of the bathroom. Jersey Shore told me I was beautiful and that I didn't need to take that insolence from anyone. He then whipped a comb out and fixed his hair, blew a kiss at the mirror and walked out. Okay, that last part didn't happen, but I imagined it in my head. I wish he did do that. He just walked away with an air of knowing and understanding. He was like Buddha. What a guy.
In case you were wondering, Jersey Shore was Asian.
I'm out.
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