HER: (Sigh) I am tired. I don’t think I’ll make it out to the club with the crew tonight.
ME: I hear you. I have to be at work at 8:00am tomorrow, and it is an hour commute to my job in traffic, so I probably won’t make it either. Plus, I don’t really like clubs.
HER: Yeah, me neither. I am getting old. I’m 45; but you’re young. You should go out.
ME: I went out a lot when I was in college. Now, I don’t really like hip hop clubs. When I go out, I prefer to listen to reggae and African music.
HER: Well where do they play that kind of music at?
ME: Well, there are clubs around Atlanta. You just got to know where to go…
HER: Nevermind. I don’t like Africans anyway. They are too flashy and are too rough with women. I had a friend. She dated an African and he beat her. And he didn’t like for her to go out with her friends. He was very controlling.
ME: Well, I’d say there is someone like that from every country. Some Americans are like that too.
HER: And reggae music. It’s okay. But I don’t like West Indians.
ME: Why not?
HER: They come to America, take our jobs. They are the reason why I am not working right now.
ME: Oh yeah?
ME: Yeah, well be careful about stereotyping. One of the things that I’ve learned is that every country is going to have their bad apples, but there are always plenty of more good apples.
HER: Honey, I think they’re all like that. I’ve been around. I know.
ME: I know too. My father is African and I have relatives that live in Ghana. My mother is West Indian and I have relatives that live in St. Thomas.
HER: (Shocked) Oh. Well I didn’t mean…
ME: (Walks away)