My Ass

I was visiting a friend who had some friends over. These were friends I had never met. A guy and his girlfriend. 

To the girl, I said, "I like your skirt!"

"Thanks. The guys were making fun of me last time for being a slut because I was wearing animal print and only black girls wear animal prints."

I laughed and indicated that I believed there may be some truth to that statement (but really? Animal prints are for all men. For the record.)

From there the conversation was overtaken by boyfriend whose thesis is "never trust a black man."

Several comments were exchanged during this little smoke break while we were outside that made me feel increasingly uncomfortable. I voiced my opinion that this conversation is based on stereotypes and is racist and in many cases is incorrect, citing my experience with Philadelphian strangers. 

Boyfriend comes back as if an hour's worth of words had been held back and I had hammered just the right point to break the dam. 

It becomes evident that my experience pales in comparison to his. That is enough said. I apologize about halfway through the rush of words and thank him for sharing (which was really a hint that I had gotten his point and wanted him to stop talking and get on with my life). He continues sharing. 

Have I spoken yet about people who lack the actual tissue in their brains that regulates conversation? For example, most importantly, detecting the other person's interest level and attention span. Also, allowing the other to talk. And listening. And also having a purpose for talking (as opposed to talking for the sake of talking). 

Sometimes I forget to whom I've said things and to whom I haven't yet. 

I hope to be thought an excellent conversationalist. 

An excellent conversationalist knows how to gracefully back out of an unpleasant and fruitless conversation. 

I am not yet an excellent conversationalist. 

Now comes the funny part: I brought this event in my life into conversation with my parents. 

And my mom says,

"You know,

You lived in Africa for a while."

There are black people in Africa. This is funny. There are no white people in Africa except me. 

I had a large sample of people to study from. I met some people I wouldn't trust, and some people I would trust with my soul in a cardboard box for 500 years. 

Never trust a black man my ass.