This afternoon I overheard the following conversation on the subway:
BLACK GUY (to WHITE GIRL dressed in faux Black Girl Outfit): “You know, because of the state of the country, the way things are and stuff, your parents owe my parents some shit. Like 40 acres and a mule. But you can make up for it by buying me a drink.”
WHITE GIRL: “That doesn’t make any sense. I’m a first-generation American. My parents are immigrants.”
SECOND BLACK GUY (to WHITE GIRL): “Your parents immigrated from South Africa.”
WHITE GIRL: “So? That’s like saying all Germans are Nazis. That’s hating.”
FIRST BLACK GUY: “I should just walk around Wall Street giving people invoices. ‘Here, I’m from the Corporation of the Freedmen’s Bureau, and you owe me 40 acres and a mule.’ I should go to NBC and give them an invoice. ‘You owe me 40 acres and a mule, or equal value. I’ll take a sitcom deal.’ I’d sure as shit be funnier than David Alan Grier.”
WHITE GIRL: “Yeah.”
It’s times like this that I wish I supported capital punishment.