You Can't Escape It

I'm not racist, but...

Frankly, I love that prefix to a sentence. I get excited about what comes next.

... this is gonna be some racist shit and I am here for it!

I was walking down the stairs when I heard her say she could thrust (or squat, or bench, or lift, or whatever) three-hundred pounds. I caught sight of her and her fanboy entourage and was duly impressed.

I wish she had thrown out the, I'm not racist, but... so I could be prepared for the racist goodness 'rhoid girl was gonna throw out next. You know, so my Mexican ass could savor the fuck out of it instead of being disappointed by it happening even here on my punk rock cruise.

All these Mexican guys stand around and watch me.

In my head, why is their race a point of emphasis, I wonder. 

They all smell (apparently, they have a malodorous tinge that is unique to their race).

Misogyny sucks. A girl is just trying to work out without being ogled. I get that.

But at least white guy misogyny has the decency to smell good? Is that the takeaway? I dunno.

I stopped at whatever landing I was on as I watched her fanboys march on with her, giggling.

I didn't hear the rest. I didn't need to.

It's the same trope I've heard in different variations all my life. Along with being lazy while simultaneously stealing jobs, Mexicans smell.

Not gonna lie. I hope she fell off the boat. And drowned.

This Mexican would laugh his ass off.


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