I was called racist last night. I'm called racist a lot. I'm not racist, believe it or not. Sometimes white people call me racist, but they're always with black people. Maybe they're trying to show me how "real" they are to their friends, and how they're down to stick up for their minority friends rights or something. When blacks and whites come up to the door and I reject the black people, the white friend has to jump the gun and call me racist.
Sometimes it's the opposite way around. I reject the white kids and let the black kids inside. It's always a dress code issue. The black friends don't call me racist. Because I'm white, it's always the minority calling me racist. But if I reject the white kids, then what am I?
Well the white kid who was by himself who I rejected last night seemed to think I was racist.
"Sorry dude, you're out of dress code, you can't come in" I said to him.
"What? Are you serious? " he responded.
I sighed. It had been a long night and I didn't want to answer his stupid ass question as to whether I was serious or not. I'm always serious.
"Yea, man. I am. I'm serious. You're out of dress code."
"That's fucked up! Can't you just let me in?" he started to scream at me.
"Well," I said, going into my usual respond, "management makes the dress code and I'm just paid to enforce it. It's not up to me whether I can let it slide or not."
"Whatever. You're racist. You're a motherfucking racist bitch!" He was angry now.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I snapped at him. "Are you an idiot? How on Gods green earth am I a racist? You're white!"
He actually just stood there looking at me for a second, looking a tad bit confused.
"Get out of my line, retard!"
Me and the other guys standing at the door with me had a nice little laugh over that one, albeit mixed with a bit of confusion.