The weather this weekend was wonderful. The sun shone, the sky was blue, the clouds were white and few… Unfortunately, we’ve been sick. I wanted desperately to roam the streets with the sun on my back – I just couldn’t muster up the energy to do much at all. On Saturday we thought we could manage to enjoy the lovely day wandering the quiet Islington residential streets that we’ve not seen as we wandered to a lunch destination. By the time we were out of the house for 30 minutes, I was begging Drew to take me to a pharmacy.
I find it odd that the Benadryl Plus the pharmacist recommended does not contain diphenhydramine, but it does contain pseudoephredrine. He also sold me a steroid nasal spray, Flixonase (fluticasone). We got mansize tissues; they seemed like such a good idea at first, but were in the end a little disappointing.
So, what was the point? Where was I going with this story? Oh. Yeah. We were on our way home with our tissues and drugs, me barely finding the energy to walk in a straight line while sneezing (and squeezing to avoid peeing down my leg)… At a crossing we passed a well dressed-Jamaican sounding man who was singing off key with his earbuds in as he danced out of a Costcutter corner store. I wouldn’t have held that moment or that man in memory until this moment if he hadn’t spoken as he brushed past saying proudly, “stupid white people”. [Remember, he sounded Jamaican mon, say that again in your head with the accent.] A moment later Drew said, “‘stupid’ is debatable, rude we are not. Man, if only I was faster with the comebacks…” We proceeded to talk about the rude black man, who I must add again was well dressed, though tone deaf, all the way home.
Ah, bless. Some poor man out there has the wrong idea and I hope he isn’t still suffering. Perhaps he’s doing a social experiment and just says the phrase “stupid white people” wherever he goes to see if he can google himself to see how many people are blogging about him. It’s also possible that he was just singing the song Stupid White People at the very moment we walked by.
He is lucky that I was too sick to pick a fight; little did he know that by not speaking I may have saved his life – or at least his weekend.
(Recycling is fun.)