This is an actual conversation I overheard at a restaurant.  I was looking around the room for cameras because it sounds like something you’d only hear on t.v. After a tiny bit of shock and horror, I had to chuckle over the whole situation, and I hope the parties involved did too.

Bookish Blonde: Oh I just remembered! The neighbors are going on vacation next week and asked if we could keep an eye on the house.

Bookish Blonde’s Sweater-vest wearing husband: Which neighbor?

Bookish Blonde: The blacks

Elderly Botox Victim: (gasp!) Lindsay!

Bookish Blonde whose name is Lindsay: What?

Elderly Botox Victim: I didn’t raise you to be like that!

Bookish Lindsay: Like what?

Elderly Botox Victim: They don’t like to be called b.l.a.c.k.s

<silence for 3…2…1…>

Bookish Lindsay’s sweater-vest wearing husband: Lynn, you’re thinking of the Anders. They live next door to our new neighbors, Tony and Jennifer Black…who are white.

Bookish Lindsay: And Mom, I think black people can spell so you weren’t really fooling anyone with that.

(Elderly Botox Lady attempts to look horrified by what she just said, but in the end she looks like she’s yawning.)

I swear, no one said anything at this table until their food came about 10 minutes later,  and then it was just, “Mmmm, this is good. How’s your food?”



4 thoughts on “B.L.A.C.K.S

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