My Friday Night

The other night I was at a high school football game - jelly? - and found myself sitting next to a black guy who looked to be around my age, which whom I assume was his significant other. We didn’t really talk or anything but I felt we did a nice job of settling in with each other, making all the concerned looks at the scoreboard together and exclaiming “hmmm” at various points of the action. I’m not saying it ended racism in its awful tracks right there at Douglas Freeman High School – yes, it being in the heart of Richmond DOES make this that much more poignant – just like the kid’s birthday party in Mississippi – wait, where am I in the “closing up my hyphens sitch”? - but it felt good, I felt like he was receiving my “hey, I’m one of the good ones!” Jedi mind trick, and when I got up to go to the concession stand I looked forward to coming back to my new bff bleacher seat buddy, giving a knowing nod as I slide by & onto my seat, and maybe I’d actually open things up with a little “I mean, can I get into the game?” joke, as the score was like 40-0 or some shit at the half.

So you can imagine my fury when I got back to the bleachers and not only was there someone else sitting in my seat, but he was a white guy!!!!!! A white guy who was not me!

I was outraged, and felt betrayed, and you’re goddam right I spent the rest of the goddam game boring a hole though the back of this new fuckwad’s head; if I even SENSED he was gonna get a laugh out of my old seatmate I was prepared to lunge myself forward on top of his stupid fucking head & never stop punching until the Richmond Capitol Police, whatever they are and for whatever reason they’d be hanging around the bleachers of a random local shitty high school football game, peeled my bloody stump of a right hand off of his stupid fucking face.