Runnin in Harlem
I live in a predominantly black neighborhood. Very predominantly. So it isn't unusual for me to get a "We don't need no other white boys in the neighborhood," or a "'Sup white bread," or my personal favorite, and most reocurring - "Fuckin' cracker," once or twice a day.
I went for a run today. Along he East River this time, which is nearer-by it turns out. As I was crossing the bridge near my finish line, I saw a black man urinating on a tree. He didn't realize I was there, so I got quite a view of the incident. As I came closer, he looked up, saw that I saw him, and said, "What are you fuckin' starin' at? Fucking cracker!" I said, "Not much. Which is funny, because I always thought that stereotype was true." He tripped me and I slammed into the fence and fell on a small bush. When I got up, he said, "Say that again, mother-fucker. Come on. Say it again." I said, "It was just a joke, man." So he punched me so hard it actually made my nose bleed. Everything turned kinda dark purple for a split second. I'm glad I didn't fall down. Just staggered a little. He said, "Real fuckin' funny, man," and walked away. I walked home with my shirt sleeve on my nose and cleaned myself up.
Well, I went for a run at least, and saw a man urinating on a tree. The rest of that story I just made up. I'm not sure why. Probably because, even with all the names I get called and the stuff people say to me, I have never EVER felt unsafe or afraid where I live. Never. And I doubt I ever will.
I went for a run today. Along he East River this time, which is nearer-by it turns out. As I was crossing the bridge near my finish line, I saw a black man urinating on a tree. He didn't realize I was there, so I got quite a view of the incident. As I came closer, he looked up, saw that I saw him, and said, "What are you fuckin' starin' at? Fucking cracker!" I said, "Not much. Which is funny, because I always thought that stereotype was true." He tripped me and I slammed into the fence and fell on a small bush. When I got up, he said, "Say that again, mother-fucker. Come on. Say it again." I said, "It was just a joke, man." So he punched me so hard it actually made my nose bleed. Everything turned kinda dark purple for a split second. I'm glad I didn't fall down. Just staggered a little. He said, "Real fuckin' funny, man," and walked away. I walked home with my shirt sleeve on my nose and cleaned myself up.
Well, I went for a run at least, and saw a man urinating on a tree. The rest of that story I just made up. I'm not sure why. Probably because, even with all the names I get called and the stuff people say to me, I have never EVER felt unsafe or afraid where I live. Never. And I doubt I ever will.