Tuesday, June 14, 2011


Sometimes, people just need someone to rant to.
They aren't looking for advice, they are barely even looking for comfort,
they just want someone to lend them an ear to bark into so that they don't seem insane talking to themselves in the produce section at the grocer.

What I'm getting at is that today I realized that these people may not even care that you, their captive audience, are listening.

Today, my socially awkward friend from school was having a bad day.
It's easy to tell when the socially inept are at their wit's end because when you acknowledge the fact that they are grinding their teeth rather loudly in class, they glare at you with the death stare of a hungry shark.
Knowing that my friend, let's call her Agatha (I'm giving her an ugly name because she wounded me & I consider it pay back), most likely needed to talk, I invited her to sit with me in the courtyard after class.
So Agatha starts going on and on about how her boyfriend's parents are conspiring to break them up by keeping him from speaking to each other (mind you, they are both college graduates in their twenties), presumably because she is Black and he is White.
So later in the conversation, I brought up how he should stand up to his parents and acknowledge that they are racists. Here is how the conversation played out:

Me: Your boyfriend should stand up to his parents and acknowledge that they are racists!
Agatha: I didn't say they are racist.
Me: ...You said they didn't like you because you're Black. That's racist.
Agatha: Being racist and being prejudiced against people of a different race are entirely different!
Me: That... makes no sense?
Agatha: It actually does if you just think about it. And besides, I never categorize people as anything until after I've met them. Let alone categorize my potential future in-laws as racist.
Me: I don't understand how you can categorize any one who doesn't want their son to date you and refuses to meet you solely because you're Black as anything but racist.
Agatha: Because I haven't met them. Take you, for example: people who don't know you probably see you and think, "Look at that girl's clothes and her make up. She's definitely a bimbo." & if I had done that, we wouldn't be friends...

I smiled and continued listening to Agatha rant and rave about her boyfriend, never once stopping her to point out that I didn't really care about her boyfriend or his parents, and that I was doing her a favor by offering to listen, while she however was a mean ingrate who had insulted me.
Instead, I just smiled politely and listened.
My heart, however, silently fired back that bimbos make friends and that if she elected to be a little bit more bimbo and a little less neglectful of her personal hygiene, she could have been telling this story to someone who actually cared. (Which is mean AND precisely why I didn't say anything.)
An hour later, Agatha had finally had her fill of ranting and walking to my car, I wondered if there were any way to give Agatha the benefit of the doubt.
Maybe she meant this Bimbo:
The tasty and affordable snacks that are sold beside the tortillas in Walmart.

Or this Bimbo, Betty Boop's mid-drift bearing dog boyfriend. & yes that's true: Betty Boop was originally drawn as a dog.

But more likely, she meant Bimbo, as defined by wikipedia-dictionary:


Noun: An attractive but empty-headed young woman, esp. one perceived as a willing sex object.
& that is just not fair.

No comments:

Post a Comment