I’m walking past a Caucasian assumable junky, pleading to an African American guy for his daily bread.
I had to intervene when he said:
“Hey man, you know the drill, things are rough for me bro!”
“Hold on a second!” I yelled at him. “You are not supposed to use those slings, they are copyrighted to the black people, and you are white.”
The black guy said “My thought exactly. I am profoundly astonished at his ability to imitate the sling expressions so well, which predominantly belong to the Afrocentric world.
I turned to the black guy and said: “Did you guys agreed to exchange path in your past lives? Because, on one hand, the white junky is speaking like a black man, while you on the other hand, sound like a white man.”
The black guy answered: “What a profound statement! But this is the way I speak. In fact, both of my parents were white, they claimed a black woman run away with their son.”
The white guy said: “My old lady was a black woman. Regardless, this is a free country, and we’re now free to speak as we damn pleased.” We’re Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, we are Free at last!”
“Hello!” I yelled back at him. “You were always free. You were never a slave, take a look at your skin, you – are – not –black!!!”
The white junky raised his hand, starred as his skin, then he said: Damn! You are right, I’m a white man!”
As I we walked away, he yelled: “Hey – do you want to be my baby mamma?”