Friday, October 21, 2005

On Being Called Racist by a Crackhead

Walked up to Colfax today as an alternate bus route to get to work. Figured on some excitement, and Colfax aims to please. Buses and crackheads and hos, oh my...

Dude walks across the street and catches my eye. He sees this and b-lines to me, and holds his hand out (real friendly-like) to shake my hand. I just look him in his bloodshot eyes, look at his hand, and shake my head to say "no."

"What, you won't shake the hand of a black man?!?!"

Oh really? The subtext was clearly, "you cracker-ass cracker," and he was clearly projecting his racism on me. Now, while I expected excitement, I must admit that this caught me off-guard.

"No, uh, sorry," I stammer back. He continues to berate me, like shaking the hands of random people on Colfax is the norm, and therefore I'm the crazy one, and I'm just like, "ooookay." I'm a bit afraid, but I know it's unlikely he's going to do anything on this busy-ass street in the middle of the day (had it been the middle of the night, that would've been a different story and I'd need to buy a new pair of boxers, perhaps a new spleen). He walks off with an air of dejectedness and as my heartrate returns to normal I realize the logical flaw in his argument that I'm a racist cracker-ass cracker:

I just make it a point not to touch anything on Colfax--black, white, or green, color's unimportant when it comes to this rule.

He coulda been white and I'd've refused his hand (in fact, I've done just that on occasion). I don't owe anybody a handshake, especially someone I don't know when I'm just minding my own business.

Asshole was just trying to bring a little sunshine into my gloomy day, I suppose. I'll have to thank him next time I see him...

As for the bus ride, mostly uneventful, save the worst b.o. I've smelled since... well, since the last time I took the 15.