I Just Hate People.

So last night I take Jeb to the mall to let him rip and run and throw some pennies in the fountain. What can I say? When you're 2 years old, the chance to splash around and eat a hot dog is a big deal...

Anyway, we're sittin' in the food court... and I realize the black dude at the next table is talking to himself... loudly... and it was a one sided conversation... That's when I noticed the shiny chrome wireless headset, and the cell phone attached to his hip.

Dipshit.

Irritated, I sized this boy up. He was in his 40's... bald... I swear... this cat was going out of his way to embody every negative black stereotype you can think of. He was wearing a black silk jogging suit. Can you explain that to me? A jogging outfit... made of silk? Oh yeah that's classy... But wait... it gets better...

On his right hand alone I count 8 big gold rings.

And as if this all wasn't enough high comedy... I look down to find him wearing a pair of alligator shoes.

Alligator shoes... and a silk jogging suit...

The guy sees me looking at him... we make eye contact... and I'm sorry y'all.. but I just couldn't keep a straight face.. I started to chuckle. As you can imagine that didn't go over well...

So he gets up, and for the first time I realize there is a woman with him... she helps him get his silk jogging jacket on... then he gives me an "eat shit" look as he throws HIS PURSE over his shoulder and struts off.

As soon as I saw him don that purse I lost it. I started laughin' outloud. Jeb even started laughin'. I know the fags in france wear make up and carry purses... so I guess I shoulda known it wouldn't be long before I started seeing it here... anyway...

Needless to say I was having a fine time. Until...

Jeb and I were done and were headin' out through the department store we came in through. While walkin' through, I see Mr Black Eurotrash at a register waiting on his wife to make a purchase... Morbid curiousity struck so I decided to make use of the amazing ease dropping skill I was taught as a wee child (Thanks Mom!).

Turns out she was buying a new leather coat... a nice one... and she paid for it with....

A West Virgina Clothing Voucher.

That's food stamps for clothes for those of you who don't know.

Don't tell me that the stereotype doesn't exist. Don't tell me its an exajurated concoction of the worst of all traights. He's real. I saw him lastnight.