The Dating Diaries: The Accidental Racist

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That is a pretty loaded header I know, and though it is partially for shock value

you’re going to have to wait a minute to see why it is warranted.

I went on a date with a seemingly sweet guy from a small town in Vermont. One of my best guy friends is from Vermont and I have never met someone from the state that I did not almost instantly like, so I had a good feeling going into it.

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Off the bat I was a bit nervous about the clear high probability of being hit by one of his wild gesticulations that occurred whenever he opened his mouth to tell a story or even make a statement.

I honestly had not seen someone speak with their hands that much since I sat down to dinner with the Italian side of my family.

He began talking about his friends and a recent bachelor party he had attended. 

The entire recount began with “I don’t respect strippers, they’re sluts.” 

I should have gotten up from the table right there.

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I am a pretty reserved young woman and I pride myself in maintaining my composure. 

But I. Saw. Red.

I asked him who in the world did he think he was judging those women (or anyone for that matter) that he did not know. He did not know what had happened in their life to bring them to the place they were at that moment. 

He attempted to backpedal but in my head there wasn’t much coming back after a statement like that so I decided to let it go and attempted to change the topic to something less inflammatory. 

Now let me also clarify, I do not believe this man is truly racist at all. I took into account he had never talked to a person of color before he attended the pricey prep school he spoke so proudly of. 

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However, while our incredibly sweet waitress of Asian descent did a wonderful job of explaining the specials, he apparently thought differently.

Laughing arrogantly, he barely waited until she had turned her back when he said “I couldn’t even understand a thing she said!” I had no problem understanding every word and wanted to give him my own version of a sake bomb but I ignored Whack Comment #2.

When we began talking about work, I told him about my full-time job and how my freelance writing work was my absolute passion. One day, I told him I would be completely freelance but for the time being I am taking a reasonable route to getting there.

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He exclaimed “You could do it right now! What is stopping you!?” Um…my rent? Health insurance? Someone to match my 401k contributions? The fact that the amount of money I make monthly from writing assignments can fluctuate from not enough for a can of tuna to just covering my rent!?

I am not sure what reality he was living in but he was firm in his belief that if I truly wanted this I could quit my job right now. Freelance writing does not work like that but okay..

Shall we get to the grand finale?

 

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He brought up the first name of an author, though unsure it was the correct one and a book he thought she had written. Have you read any of her books he asked?

I had no idea who he was talking about, he said her name was Tony and she wrote “Blue Eyed” or something like that. I told him I had not and he said:

You don’t know her? She’s black! You’re a writer. What do you read!?

So..I should feel bad because I am a woman of color and not every book on my shelf is similarly written by a person of color? I should read every and only books written by black people or my credibility will be in question?

I told him that it was a good time to end the evening and thanked him for dinner because  even though it had been a strange night – I will always conduct myself as a lady.

Later, bothered that I came off as an ill-read writer, I googled “Blue Eyed” and Tony when it clicked that he was talking about Toni Morrison’s “The Bluest Eye.”

Please forgive me and my clear lack of blackness but I have not read it.

Tell me your thoughts, I know you have many!