Today's story starts like many you've read before in the paper. "Recent college grad, Amy Whatsherface was walking down a poorly lit street after midnight when she noticed a Black male dressed in all black coming her direction. She froze..."
Well I'm the Black male in this story and here is where the story changes. I was walking home from the train one night, the streetlight went out for some reason and I look up and see a White lady walking by herself at twelve o' clock at night carrying a bag from Lord and Taylor. She put on the usual, "I'm not going to panic or look racist but I'll still grab my purse and tighten my stance" face. There was no need. The minute I saw her I went into survival mode alpha. I crossed the damn street and made it my point to sing the Whitest song I could think of at the moment (When you're alone and life is making you lonely you can always go downtown) loud enough for her to hear me. I then got my black ass to a well lit, busy street as quickly as possible without running.
I'm deathly afraid of White women at night. White joggers might as well be boogeymen. See, I live in a really nice neighborhood but as Dave Chappelle put it, "It's not great but the police would never believe my Black ass lived there." The last thing I need is to fit the description of a suspect. Now the onus is on the White woman. Why the hell are you walking by yourself so late? Yes, it is a free country and yes, you should be able to walk through your neighborhood at night if you want. But you can't! This is Washington, DC. This is a horrible place during the day, what the hell makes you think night is any better?
So, because Amy wants to be a superwoman I gotta pick up the slack and protect myself. I usually walk down well lit heavily trafficked streets. I never keep my hands in my pockets. I always make a phone call while I'm out so that we have proof of where I was based on the cell tower picking up the signal and whenever I see a White woman by herself...I go the other way.
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