Inauguration Special: Local Flavor, Installment #1

The JOS sent me out to DC to get some pictures and talk to the inauguration attendees(I am still waiting for my travel reimbursement check). What I experienced on my journey was surprising but nonetheless still hope inspiring. This is the first of three installments.



***I use blacks instead of african americans because most african americans have been in this country for much longer than my ancestry and I am not referred to as a European American/ Russian American, I am a white american. A real African American is Barack Obama, his dad is from Kenya and his mom is from America. I think a comedian pointed this out during a standup routine, he said "saying African American is trying too hard not to be rascist and therefore makes you a rascist." As for me, I could give a shit what skin color you are, just as long as you know where the good weed is, then you are cool with me.*******



Some factoids about DC:

Population at night- 590,000 people

Population during the work week- 1,000,000+

Why are there so many people that leave during the night? The next fact makes sense of this disparity.

Demographics- 55% Black, 36% White, and the rest other people; asians, latinos, and the like.


I went to a CVS (that's the Walgreens on the eastcoast) to buy a pack of cigarettes after the Inaugeral address. I waited in line amidst a flurry of post inauguration action.
I got to the cashier and this is what happened:

"you got any marlboro lights?"

and she, young twenty something overweight black woman responded, "yea, fab twenty five"

"fab twenty- five?" I said.

"these is fab twenty-five" pointing to the pack of cigarettes.

"Fab twenty-five, hmm, is that some sort of club?" I ask.

"No, they is fab twenty five."

"Okay...here's my ID, how much do they cost?"

"Fab twenty-five." She responds.

No verbal response, I just stare confused.

This goes on for five more minutes, with just different variations of questioning until the man next to me pulls his tongue out of a white girl's fat ass and intervenes.

He chuckles, "shiiit you must be from outta town"

I responded, "you sir are correct, i forgot i was in the south."

The cashier was saying "fab twenty-five" but what she meant was $5.25.
I paid exact change, asked for a receipt (so the JOS would cover my tab eventually) and went out into the cold.


A few days later I experienced a first. Myself and my associates went to a very cultural neighborhood. This is code for ghetto. We were meeting a friend who was running late so we had 20 minutes to kill. I saw three people get carted away to an ambulance, two motorcades consisted of about twenty cars with extra loud sirens, and one man bleeding from his face.
We stood out like two gold front teeth at a New England country club.

The meeting place was ben's chili bowl but we didnt end up going inside becasue the line was far too long. So we went next door to a place called Next Door.
The place had some nice jazz playing and we got a table. The waitress took us all the way through the restaurant past several open tables up a set of stairs to the back. We sat down and noticed that there was only one other table occupied in the vicinity. The people sitting at that table looked like the cast of 7th heaven. In order to fully make a point let's recap:

1. The hostess took us past many open tables in the front of the restaurant to the furtherst back possible and up a set of stairs.
2. The restaurant was owned and occupied by a high precentage of Blacks.
3. We, a group of 5 white dudes, were given a table in the back far away from any of the "normal restaurant patrons."

I guess its about time I got mine for being white. Just like people dont choose to be gay or black, I didnt choose to be white and its about time I was punished for it. This was a first for me and I was almost compelled to sit at the front of the bar to protest. Instead when I got back to the hotel I protested in private by listening to "Rosa Parks" by Outkast. I now know what they were talking about.