So. Today (yesterday?) Produce Pete and I, Id A, went to Mecca to begin his Pygmalion-esque transformation from "high school Produce Pete to college Produce Pete." My words. TURNITIN!
So after Mecca we went to Champs after Foot Locker and Athlete's Foot to find a pair of sneakers I wanted. This was after like half an hour of searching.
Then, we find them and I go to pay. Normal. Then the black cashier asked me who got the shoes for me. This is what happened:
No CJ: That'll be $50.32.
Id A: Ok.
No CJ: Could you tell me the person who got these shoes from the back?
Id A: I forgot his name. Sry.
No CJ: Well. What did he look like? (FACT: Everyone who works there is black.)
Id A: He's tall.
No CJ: ...
Id A: And black. (It;s at this point where I get a big shitty grin on my face and continue awkwardness)
No CJ: ...
Id A (to Produce Pete): Did he have facial hair?
Produce Pete: ...
Id A: I think is name was CJ?
No CJ: That's impossible. No one named CJ works here.
Id A (panicking): It was THAT GUY.
No CJ then left for like five minutes as I stood there with my Converse probably telling other No CJs this story. I am "That Really White Kid."
Here's the thing. I knew he was thinking "This kid isn't going to say he's black because he is superwhite and paid with a debit card. I'm going to make him feel uncomfortable." Entrapment much? But like, I win because I totally beat racism.
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