Trip to the Grocery Store

I worked last night until about 7:30 at which point I realized there wasn't a bit of food in the house. I was about to break in my Postmates app and have someone bring me some food but then I remembered that Laney doesn't like pizza (what a giant weirdo, right? who doesn't like pizza!?) and that also I was lazy af on Sunday and it was my own fault there was no food in the house and also I am a grown-up, responsible person who does not need to order in just cuz there's no food in the house and also even if I did get dinner that way,  I probably wouldn't be able to order in a Diet Dr. Pepper and English Muffin for breakfast the next morning.

Faced with such deluge of rationale, I put on my shoes and hauled ass to the grocery store. Not all heroes wear capes (I mean, I was. I always wear my cape on Mondays).

The store was pretty quiet, but there was this one 50ish white guy who was just everywhere I was. I turned down the bread aisle, there he was. I turned away from the pizza freezer (because I live with a freaky teen who doesn't like pizza), there he was. I decided to get packaged turkey for Don so I didn't have to stand next to him at the deli counter.

But it's not just that he was everywhere I was. If it'd just been a silly coincidence like that, I probably would have smiled and had a "there you are again" moment. But he was that guy. That guy who fixed me with that look and that remark every time I ended up anywhere in his atmosphere - that immediate, quasi-jocular demand that I stop what I'm doing and just pleasant at him. Smile back. Laugh at his jokes. Reassure him that he's just fucking delightful when really he's just fucking exhausting.

Ladies, you know who I'm talking about here. He shows up when you're alone in an elevator or waiting room, or in any way unaccompanied in some public space.  Maybe he's hitting on you or maybe he just knows he can demand that any woman he finds moderately attractive do the dance for him; smile and chuckle at his jokes and hoist his ego.

Because he knows, even if he claims he doesn't know, that you're probably going to accommodate him since failure to accommodate has about 30-40% return rate of BITCH.

So I just tried to avoid him.

Unfortch, the checkout line allowed no such cowardice as there was just the one cashier. He kept trying to strike up a conversation with me. I kept one-wording him back with the tense half-smile. He'd say something to me, I'd respond tersely, but politely. He'd turn to the cashier and try with her. She'd respond tersely, but politely. It was a tense checkout lane at the Howard Jewel last night. Finally, he paid for his groceries and left.

And there I was, and the cashier was a young woman, and both the people behind me were women. And when I said, "That guy was too friendly, right", the cashier stopped, looked at me and said "I know, right?!" And then everyone relaxed and we laughed and everything was cool at The Jewel.

But, lookit, I'm not writing this to talk about those kinds of tiresome men and their tiresome demands. I know if you're reading this, even if you have that pesky y chromosome, you're not that guy. My readers are all sensitive and intelligent and can read the damn room and wouldn't demand flirty engagement from a tired middle-aged woman in the middle of the night in the middle of the grocery store (8:00 pm is TOO the middle of the night!)

The reason I'm writing this is because it struck me in that moment that through most of my life, I've had it reinforced through thousands of cultural factors that it's women who are the bummers, who make everyone behave and act right, who gum up the good times. And it was so ingrained that it took me to this ripe old age to realize that, hey, that's not fair! Women are much more aggressively tone- and behavior-policed than men and can often only relax when the guys go away.

Where's our damn beer commercial? It can be for Zima. I had a Zima a couple of nights ago. It was refreshing. I think we may have been too hard on Zima in the 90s. But that's a topic for another blogging...

Let's Discuss Our Feelings

Remember 2010? Before the nightmarish reality we're living in now? In an interview with Matt Lauer, George W Bush said the worst moment of his presidency was when Kanye West said "George W Bush doesn't care about black people."  Let's revisit the whole exchange and remember that while he is certainly better than what we have now, he was still pretty terrible:

(Click to embiggen)

Had New Orleans 9th Ward been filled with white people, the response to Katrina would have been vastly different. 

(I had to do ONE gif!)

But George Bush had no problem claiming that his hurt feelings were more important than a devastating flood that killed almost 2000 people and dispossessed thousands more. Shoot, George Bush thought being called racist by Kanye West was worse than 9 Freaking 11.

We have to stop doing that, my Nillas. We really do.  Being called racist is not worse than racism. In particular:

• If you're investing energy railing against the casting of Black actors in roles that you thought belonged to white people, you're part of the problem
• If you're arguing on-line or on barstools that it's not racism keeping Colin Kaepernick out of the NFL, you're part of the problem.
• If you're putting out dumb tweets talking about how a democratic senator having been in the Klan somehow mitigates Trump's racism, you're part of the problem.
• If you're talking about how only All Lives Matter isn't racist, you're a particularly dumb part of the problem.
• And, for the love of God, If you're investing energy about how confederate memorials aren't actually celebrating white supremacy, you're part of the problem.

I follow some Black twitterers who go hard on White women from time to time. And sometimes, I get them bad feelings and want real bad to say "But I don't do that!" But then, I stop myself and go:

(OK, 2 gifs...)

There is no worse response to accusations of racist collusion by White women than going all #NotAllWhiteWomen. Don't go all #NotAllWhiteWomen. Rather than rush to defend ourselves, my fellow Brunchers, we need to rush to defend anti-racism.

White Supremacists are emboldened and loud and have all of the guns and a real powerful ally in the Racist-in-Chief. Our hurt feelings are a pretty minor consideration, all things considered.