My Dark Passenger
Up front I want to be clear that this isn’t a post about my black friend I carpool with to work everyday. If it was, it would have been titled Fatboy & Leroy. And it would have detailed our repetitive arguments over why he insists on listening to rap on the way to work when we all know he is a closet country fan. Or how he thought I was mocking the month of February because I was low riding my pants. But this is totally not about that.
There is a disgusting and imaginary line that has been generally accepted by the public. It is a line that you aren’t supposed to cross. It’s the politically correct line. And since changing jobs I have spent the past 7 months in a fog of pretentious BS and feigned compassion for non-existent rights and feelings. I actually had the honor of sitting in a meeting where we were delicately explained to that the picture that someone sent to someone in a private email of a monkey flipping them off could have been considered racist because one of the people on the email list was black. Now lets just all be glad that there wasn’t a gay person on the email chain and the monkey was eating a banana.
This all happened peripherally, but nonetheless I got to have moments of my life taken from me in a fancy awareness meeting because we all know that monkeys flipping the bird is the same as a burning cross. Which made me think.
I laugh at every single joke there is out there. Fat jokes, Asian jokes, dead baby jokes, black jokes, your mom jokes, Jeff Foxworthy jokes, blonde jokes, Mexican jokes, knock knock jokes….you name it, I have laughed at it. Does that mean you agree with it? Nope. But funny is funny.
And after half a year in this environment, it made me second guess anything I wanted to write. It somehow burrowed into some empty corner of my brain and set up shop. It made me think I actually care about if I offend someone. And just as an FYI – That stupid thing that burrowed into my subconscious? It has been making me try and feel bad for not capitalizing the word ‘black’ in ‘black jokes’ a paragraph above like I might sound racist.
And I hate the fact that that happened. It pisses me off. But he dark passenger that rides along with me, the one that points out the humor to me, he’s back.
When you are reminiscing about what a dead relative would say if they were alive right now, that dark passenger is begging me to say ‘Help, help! Let me out of this box!’ When you announce on facebook that you are starting a diet (again) and 3 hours later you post a picture of you at Krispy Kreme, He wants to laugh. At you.
So 500 words in, and it was all just to say congratulations to you. I once again, don’t care. If I see my Jewish friend stop and bend over to pick up a penny, I’m going to tell my Mexican friend that his butt is a pinata as I hand him a stick while I sit back and eat a piece of my black friends chicken while my gay friend points out what’s wrong with my outfit while my Asian friend does my taxes as my Polynesian friend throws pineapple rinds at my dumb blonde friend who is using a solar powered flashlight to find my middle eastern friend who just suicide bombed this post.
I am as shocked as you are that you could read this over the noise that my Puerto-Rican friends were making.