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Urban Cadence

I am rubber, you are glue

Monday, Apr. 26, 2004 @ 7:10 p.m.

Gawd, it's so blistering hot out there! And it's supposed to get worse as the week goes on... just great.

At least it wasn't a total loss... French Fitch and I lay out by the pool for about 3 hours. Now that coats and jackets are going out of season, I guess it's time to get some color on my skin again.

I have a question. It may seem like a sensitive question, but it really isn't. While we were at the pool today, there was this group of African American guys playing around in the water. And later, they got out and lay out on tanning chairs.

This is not blatant racism, nor is it blatant ignorance. This is merely blatant curiosity on my part. Why do they lay out in the sun? I mean... the point is trying to get a darker complexion... and well... they're already... you know... that color. Once again, I'm not being racist... I'm just interested to know why. It's just like if an albino person wants to go to a plastic surgeon to get his skin bleached... the natural response would be "why?", wouldn't it? How can an albino person get anymore whiter? What, he wants to become transparent or something?

Well, anyway. I got pissed off by this weird guy in class today. I swear, while he looks over 20, he must be, like, mentally 9 or something. During class, he kept whispering out my name, as if to talk to me. I'd turn around, expecting a legitimate question and a damn good reason for distracting me, but all he did was just smile at me. Okaaayyy... so I ignore him, turn back at the lecturer, and there he goes again. I look at him, and all he does is give me that creepy smile. Nothing else. He kept doing it a few more times after that, but I just ignored him.

Then he started throwing little bits of paper at me. Having taken quite enough (it was early morning and I haven't had my coffee fix), I turned sharply and barked out with a loud, menacing "WHAT???!?".

He just continued smiling at me, pleased as a 9-year-old who'd pulled off a prank.

The lecturer had heard my little outburst. Which was reasonable, considering that I actually shouted out (and over-reacted) in front of the whole class. He asked me what was wrong, and I said that that guy was throwing stuff at me.

Well... I guess I should have worded it in a less juvenile manner, because everyone just started laughing at me. ME, not that creepy guy. ME. So the sarcastic lecturer (bastard!!) told me that there was a junior high just across the street, and that I shouldn't wander off from my little field trip group. The class laughed.

I've never been so humiliated since... since I was 9. ARGH.

The next time I see that son of a bitch... I swear... I SWEAR....

I'd... I dunno, give him a wedgie or something. Yeah. Take that.

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