There was an old lady with perfect skin. Glowed like a goddess. Smile like a sunrise, need the darkest of tinted windows/glasses to dim that. When they asked her how her skin was so perfect at 90+ years, she just flashed this gorgeous smile and said,
(Well, sometimes she chalked it up to good moisturizing practices, but you can tell why I usually don’t emphasize that part)
And then you have the Ottertail River in Minnesota. Famous party spot, where people float down on inner-tubes with coolers of beer.
Where my friend got called a chink. (Am I even allowed to type that word, it looks dirty as hell.)
Where I called someone a c*nt to their face for the very first time.
(Ask yourself if the second c-word looks so much more shocking, and why is that?)
Yes racial slurs are alive and well in rural America.
It just hurts to see it coming from my generation.
Also just so you know, if one of YOUR drunken friends ever uses a racial/homophobic/misogynistic slur in your presence, THIS IS WHAT YOU DO.
You apologize for their bad behavior. Don’t say, “Oh he’s just super drunk.” Say I am sorry for what he said to you.
And maybe consider getting better friends.
Well. Time for me to rid my body of disappointment and anger and go get ready to help some old people.
My instructor and I salsa dancing to San Holo’s remix of Next Episode by Dr. Dre…