I went to my booth carrying a tray with the two plates I'd piled with food, the empty cup I'd soon fill with sweet tea and my wallet and cell phones.
I sat facing the window, nibbling slowly at the pizza, eating the caesar salad, watching my phone ring... and ring... and ring.
The people just stared.
The girl's cheerleading squad that filed in after practice came dressed in sweats, spandex and boy shorts in colors that spread across the rainbow. Some silently made their plates, while others cackled as they found a place to sit.
The four guys -- dressed in sleeveless blue-jean shirts and knee-length shorts, one with a mullet -- stared at the girls. The guys were beyond their high school years, but stared longingly at the teens as the girls flittered around the restaurant.
None of it mattered to me. I was still trying to figure out why one of the four guys called me a nigger.
2 years ago
6 comments:
:o(
Yea - that doesn't sound to good. What did you do? There's a part II, right?
Darn...so I suppose you got your 6'6" ass up and asked him if you heard him right, right? Please tell me you walked ovah there?? I'm gonna have to come down there for a visit...cuz me and you have a visit with the local po-po
Damn.
I am with CR, you are a taller than most, thick bodied man, all you had to do was stand up (literally) and ask dude if you heard him right!
I couldn't get in his face for many reasons. One, I was there on work. Two, I'm not that guy.
Three, ignorance is bliss, so I let him bask in it.
Yeah. North Carolina is a fucked up place.
Which is why I left.
Post a Comment