The Benefit Of The Doubt

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 –I was walking into a supermarket with my wife a few years back.  A car zipped in front of us and pulled into a first space — a “one-sy” — a handicap spot, hung his placard on the rearview, and walked ahead of us into the store.  No limp.  No nothin’.

ME:  Man that pisses me off.  There’s nothing wrong with that guy.  What an asshole!”
WIFE:  Maybe he has a heart condition that makes it difficult for him to walk longer distances.
ME:  I guess I didn’t think of that.

There is a certain convenience store that I frequent, in the sense that I go there everyday on my way to work to get my 44 ounce Coca-Cola.  And at that convenience store there is a certain black woman who works replenishing the store’s abundant coffee station.  I point out that she is black because I only took notice of her around the same time that Barack Obama was elected or inaugurated or some such thing, and I noticed that around that time black women seemed to be behaving more proudly, maybe it’s because a black man would soon be occupying the White House, or because he wasn’t going around banging white women as far as they knew.  Whatever the reason, they seemed to be acting downright “uppity.”  No ‘thank yous’ when I would hold a door for them.  No ‘excuse mes’ if they cut in front of me in line.  No nothin’.

Anyway, it seemed like every morning on my way to the soda fountain, she would cross in front of me (slowly, and with nary an ’excuse me’) on her way to her sugar packets or creamers or whatever.  Naturally, I would stop in my tracks, and passive-aggressively contort my face into an expression of incredulity, hoping someone would notice and commiserate with me.  After topping off my soda cup, I would purposely try to catch her eye and just say, “Hello, how are you today?” as politely as I could.  For her part she would just stare at me and walk away. 

Fume.  Fume.  Fume.  Fume!

I guess it was about a month later I heard her manager talking to her.  Someone must have complained about her surliness I thought, and didn’t bother fighting the urge to smile.  But as I got closer, I noticed that the manager was talking to her really slowly, (REALLY SLOWLY) and really over-explaining what she wanted her to do.  Then the surly woman responded, and that’s when I realized she was something of a re-TARD (pronounced like Zach Galifianakis in The Hangover).

Well I guess I didn’t think of that.

My mind raced to all the other instances in my life when I had been completely ignored by women.  Haha, retards.  They were all fuckin’ retards.

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One Response to “The Benefit Of The Doubt”

  1. Soupy,

    I think you’re funny. I thought this was funny. Because I get your humor. But you walk a thin line on this particular post. I don’t think it will win any awards.

    Just sayin’.

    Meredith