Boyz in the Hood

A few weeks in the rear view Wifesearch had a lively class on the letters of Martin Luther King. In our politically correct world the subject of racism is polarizing which is why after one such class, sitting in the hot tub, drinking beer, that Big Boy (a.k.a. Patrick) told My Man Bruce and myself that he had recently been called the N word at a local beer store.

For those that don't know Big Boy. He's not only a big boy. He's a big white boy.

"Why would he call you a N word?" Bruce and I both asked.

Big Boy went on to explain that he had no idea. He would often hit said beer store (which is across the street from Arapaho United Methodist Church for those playing along at home) on his way home from work and buy a hoop-d (big ass beer in a paper sack.) At some point when he entered the convenience store the worker who was a young kid (either Indian or Pakistani) would say, 'What up N word' as a greeting.

This troubled Big Boy. Hard. On multiple levels. Knowing Big Boy as My Man Bruce and I do, we thought the story was hilarious, and laughed until our sides hurt as he told about his encounters with this crazy kid.

Fast forward to the annual auction at AUMC (which was long and hot) and Big Boy, My Man Bruce and me decided to act like we were in Jr. High and sneak across the street to get a beer.

As we walked up to the door, Big Boy, who again is big=tall, sort of bent down and peered into the window and said, "It's him."

We filed into the store and were half way to the hoop-d case when the kid recognized Big Boy and said, I shit you not, "What up N word."

Big Boy ignored the comment and walked to the hoop-d case and whispered if we had heard the kid say the N word. We had. But it wasn't super loud and to be honest it was so surreal, it was hard to even believe it had just happened.

Finally we decided to grab a Fosters oil can each and Big Boy darted up to pay the kid and tried to ignore him as much as possible when the person you are trying to ignore is your cashier.

In his haste Big Boy had sort of cut in front of two other guys buying a six pack of Miller Lite, so Big Boy stood to the side and waited for My Man Bruce and myself to pay.

My Man Bruce and and I were discussing who would pay (I had cash, he had a check card) when the kid acknowledged it was our turn by saying to me, "What up N word?"

As anyone who has ever read this here BLOG know, I love nothing more than a situation that is so gloriously wheels off. There was NO way I was going to ignore being called the N word by this kid so I asked him, "Did you just call me a N word?"

The kid smiled and said, "Yeah. What up N word?"

"That's racially insensitive." I said to him.

Big Boy lost it at this and darted out the side door leaving me and My Man Bruce with this crazy kid. My Man Bruce said a lady entered right about what was then now, but to be honest, I was so focused on what the kid said next that I had tunnel vision.

"Your President is a N word."

"My President," I asked. "He's not your President too?"

I could see Big Boy laughing hard outside. My Man Bruce stood next to me, doing a very Beavis type laugh.

The kid. He was oblivious.

"No N word. He ain't my president."

"Really," I said. "Where are you from?"

"I ain't telling you where I'm from N word."

"Why?" I asked. "Where are you from?"

"I'll blow up your house."

"You'll blow up my house?" I said. "What the fuck?"

"You haven't been able to find that N word from September 11th." He said as he handed Bruce his receipt to sign.

"You ain't never going to catch that N word," he said as Bruce handed him the signed receipt.

"Thank you, sir." the kid said automatically.

"You just throw out the N word and then say sir?" I said. "Nice."

"He is a N word." the kid said.

At this point I realized that this kid is crazy. And as much as I like to fuck with someone, I didn't want him whipping out a gun and shooting me or My Man Bruce who was so discombobulated by all of this that he started to open his Fosters oil can that was sitting on the payment counter.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, N word!!!" the kid said to My Man Bruce. "You trying to get me thrown in jail."

"I don't want to end up in jail with you N word." The kid said.

We were slowly heading to the door that Big Boy had exited when we asked the kid why he called Big Boy a N word. I've been in that store a few times (I don't like to shop there 'cause they are HIGH in price) and that kid was working and he never called me a N word. Ditto for My Man Bruce. For some reason Big Boy brought it out of him. Something Big Boy self admittedly says often happens to him.

The kid sort of shook his head in disgust and said, "He ain't no N word. That boy buys Keystone Light in the can. He's white."

My Man Bruce and I lost it. I'm talking bending over laughing so hard laughter.

The kid was again oblivious though and continued. "He's ain't no N word. He's white. He's a hippie!"

"That what we call him too." I said to the kid. "That he's a hippy."

"I been saying he was hippie long before you N word." He said to me.

Then he spit in a cup and said, "See you later N word."

Until I BLOG again...coz the boys in the hood are always hard, you come talkin that trash, we'll pull ya card, knowin' nutin in life but to be legit', dont quote me boy coz i aint said shit.