Wow, almost the exact same words I used yesterday in regards to the irony of the belief that to make the world more diverse, you make it less white, I heard echoed in this really cool "pro European" video.
It's funny how, the last black lady that I dated seemed to relish in whatever attention we were gettting as a bi-racial couple in Florida in 1999, as much as in anything else, outside of maybe keeping very tight tabs on my paychecks ("OK, with the 3 hours you said you worked Saturday, your check should have been $400, give or take... So, what did you do with the twenty dollars?!" type of thing) and flying into physical confrontations out of jeolousy over my suspected by her trysts (Like the time I was living with her in Jacksonville and drving a Yellow Cab and my last fare of the night, an early twenties female, whom I had picked up at a club, had left her cellphone in my cab. I hadn't noticedf it untill I got home, about 25 miles away from where I had dropped her. I decided I would wait until the morning and then just go back to the house and give it back to her.
Angela, my 29 year old black girlfriend had gone into a rage; accusing me of using "one of the oldest tricks in the book," in order to carry on an affair. "She left her phone in your cab, give me a break!" type of thing. Her 11 year old son, whose father never came up in any conversations, had to be given Ritalin every morning, or there would be a call from his school before the school day was even an hour old. They would have to do this, so as to avoid double dosing him when they gave him some, out of I guess some big candy dish that sat on a counter in the schools's office. There is a 40,000 word story about the Angela year of 1999. It was almost fitting that I toasted 2000 with a few Dixie cups of "buck" -made from orange juice, bread and sugar- from a jail cell, nine floors above downtown Jacksonville, after that year or so with Angela. But I will retrieve that story the next time I go in that hard drive. That involves shutting down the laptop and then rebooting with that drive in it, which is always a little nerve-racking because of the glitches that come from the drive telling my Lenovo Thinkpad that it is a Toshiba Satelite. A swapping of drives could always be the last such move, should something freeze up. Otherwise I would just go get the story and post the story tomorrow. That is if I read it and it holds my own interest...
Angela, my 29 year old black girlfriend had gone into a rage; accusing me of using "one of the oldest tricks in the book," in order to carry on an affair. "She left her phone in your cab, give me a break!" type of thing. Her 11 year old son, whose father never came up in any conversations, had to be given Ritalin every morning, or there would be a call from his school before the school day was even an hour old. They would have to do this, so as to avoid double dosing him when they gave him some, out of I guess some big candy dish that sat on a counter in the schools's office. There is a 40,000 word story about the Angela year of 1999. It was almost fitting that I toasted 2000 with a few Dixie cups of "buck" -made from orange juice, bread and sugar- from a jail cell, nine floors above downtown Jacksonville, after that year or so with Angela. But I will retrieve that story the next time I go in that hard drive. That involves shutting down the laptop and then rebooting with that drive in it, which is always a little nerve-racking because of the glitches that come from the drive telling my Lenovo Thinkpad that it is a Toshiba Satelite. A swapping of drives could always be the last such move, should something freeze up. Otherwise I would just go get the story and post the story tomorrow. That is if I read it and it holds my own interest...
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