Monday, July 28, 2008

Nearly a perfect evening

Last night, Dad called and asked if I wanted to accompany him to a local dive tavern, where there would be much food-based goodness. Oh, and booze. Naturally, I responded in the affirmative.

Once there, we ate a lovely meal of beer-can chicken, fried cucumbers with a spicy crust (yummy), authentic Jardiniere from Chicago and pepper bacon-wrapped asparagus. Utterly delicious.

Then, I became very pissed off/uncomfortable.

One of the patrons looked about the bar, and said, "I've got a joke, and since we're all white here..."

I was like, "Fuck. Nothing good has EVER followed that."

Dude proceeded to tell a VERY offensive joke. Dad shifted uncomfortably. I put on my bitch shoes and informed the "joker" that it wasn't funny. Because it wasn't, and since the teller of the offensive joke-

a- assumed that since we were all of Caucasian extraction, we'd be totally okay with his racist asshattery and that we were just as predjudiced as him
b-had a Skynrd tat on his arm

It just made even more angry, because not only am I not racist in the slightest, I love the Skynrd.

I didn't feel in the wrong for telling him that he was being a pig. Because he was. And it just pissed me off, because it was a great evening. Really quite fun. And now there's a nasty bit associated with it. Damn it. Because the food was That Good.

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