The Best Kind of Compliments


Disclaimer: I am not racist: (I know, I know – if you have to make a disclaimer, odds are people will disregard your disclaimer and accuse you of the things that follow (kind of like when you say, “I’m not trying to sound _____” knowing that you’ll sound exactly like the adjective within the blank when it’s all said and done). And, because this is about a race other than my own I feel the need to add it anyways, just to make things clear. But, seriously – let’s all try to view this as a comical post and nothing more. You know how my logic works by now, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise.)

Saturday night my roommates, friends, and I went out for a night on the town to bid farewell to my main man Luis during his final weekend in Nova (I’M GOING TO MISS YOU, MAN!). Because I’m the type of person who laughs at everything, and my bladder was to the point where even the faintest of chuckles would have caused a warm stream to run down my legs, I figured I had to do it: I had to break the seal. So, I did exactly what the books tell you to do: I put a napkin over my glass (I ain’t tryin to get roofied again), announced to the table where I was going, and headed off to the bathroom.
I get to the bathroom and notice all of the stalls are taken, so I patiently stand there waiting for one to open up. While I’m waiting, this gentleman of African American decent comes in and stands behind me. As we both stand there I see him look down out of the corner of my eye. Time to go off on a tangent: now, when I was preparing to go to New Orleans in October I did a little research. Apart from reading about all of the violence in that city, which freaked me the fuck out, I read a comment someone wrote that said, “if you drop something on Bourbon Street, don’t bother picking it up: it’s hers.” Back to the story: when I saw this guy look down I wanted to make a joke similar to that, because I wouldn’t have minded making a friend in the bathroom. Unfortunately, I didn’t see him make any movement down so I refrained from doing so. To my surprise, he had actually looked down at my shoes and gave me a compliment. This is where my post gets interesting, with all intentions to be comical:
In my opinion, black people can pull anything off. I mean ANYTHING: e.g. this black guy at school wore this beanie that was the shape of a tigers head and had long tassels. Did he look dumb in my eyes? HELL NO. He was pulling that thing off as if it had been in style for 10 years. If it were a white person wearing it, I would have politely told him he’s trying to hard, and that he needs to tone it down.
So, whenever I get a compliment from a black person about my attire I freak out. It happens every time. It’s almost like black people are the gatekeepers of the fashion world, and they just let this scrawny white kid through to the next round. The last time I got a compliment about my shoes from a black guy I was wearing these at a bar. I literally took them off of my feet, held them up to his face for him to get a better look, and said, “right?! I just got them today!” with this huge grin on my face. Looking back on it I’m only a little embarrassed, because he probably thought, “look at this dumb, drunk white boy”. At that time, I was through to the other world and nothing was stopping me.
There you have it: my not-so-racist-comical-post that involves black people. I guarantee you I’m not the only one who feels this way. I may just be the only brave soul man enough to talk about it.

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