A Throwback Post – Why I Don’t Date White Guys
Sorry guys – it’s been one of those weeks. But here’s another oldie but goodie for you. Years ago when I was in school I had these two friends Adam and Cory. They were the kind of white guys I hate now…loved hip hop and thought that made them “down”, called each other “bro”, you [...]
Anyway, these dudes were responsible for the only two experiences I’ve ever had with white guys – which is amazing if you consider that I grew up in London Ontario. One was the fabulous Bobby who kissed me for the first time in his parents’ bathroom next to the Elvis clock and with whom I got down ‘n dirty in his jeep on the grounds of Brescia College – where the nuns live in London.
I know – I was scandalous.
Anyway, the other we’ll call JP. And JP was, well, straight up whiter than the whitest white man. Let’s take a look:
He played hockey
He had some kind of mullet
“Poor thing” I thought. Because as embarrassed as I was, I knew he had to be absolutely mortified. “I’m sorry!” he nearly sobbed. “I’m so sorry!” “It’s okay” I murmured encouragingly. I really felt bad for him. Until this:
“I’m so upset! I waited my whole life to be with a black girl and here you are and look!”(gesturing southward)
Um, yeah. so not only have you wasted my time, and left me with blue “balls”, but you thought it was a good idea to tell me I’m the living manifestation of some massa-mammy fantasy you’ve been harbouring?!?
but then he never called me!