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I’m the most colorful and most ghetto person at my work. I’m mostly non-white and I grew up on the streets, while all my co-workers are German, Swedish or Irish. I shit you not, for once in my life, I’m the non-white of the group, which is weird because I’m usually the white fucker that talks the cops out of an aresst. However that’s not really the point here.

I work at a popular sandwich shop, and most things are really customizable and all the employees try to get the lowest price and the best deals because we like our customers and hate our owner. Well there’s one girl I work with whom I particularly dislike, and she’s a horrible racist on top of it. Her favorite thing to say to me is “Emilio don’t think this includes your family, but I really hate how lazy fucking Mexicans and all those people from down there are.” I wish I was shitting you. It’s only made worse by the fact that we have a prominent Hindi and Hispanic customer base from the other local businesses and I work with her at least 3 days out of the week.

However a couple of days ago we had two men of Latin or South American origin came in, and since I wasn’t paid to ask where they were from and I don’t really care so long as I can understand them and they put money in the tip jar I didn’t bother asking, however my detested co-worker decided that they were Mexican. I don’t know how she came to that conclusion, but again I don’t like her, so I’m not going to ask.

They asked if they could put whatever they wanted on their sandwich, and I said yes so long as we had it, they laughed, I joked and they ordered a ham and roast beef sandwich. Usually everyone rings that kind of sandwich up as a much cheaper Turkey and Ham sandwich because the production coasts are the same. Now being a militant vegan I don’t really care for having to sell animal products, but people are going to eat animal products one way or the other and if they have change to spare then I’m getting a tip and that means I can pay rent for one more month, win-win really. However my co-worker (we’ll call her Kesha from now on) charged them for the most expensive sandwich we had which was a club sandwich, I told her how to charge it and her response was “There’s no turkey on that!”

Kesha was the one who taught me how to charge for this particular sandwich because it made the customer happier. She only charged for a more expensive sandwich because she knew she could get away with it. She told me later that they probably wouldn’t be able to figure out what she had charged them anyway because they spoke Spanish to each other, so it didn’t matter to her.

Again I’m not exactly fond of her.


If you don’t get the titles reference it means that basically herbivores are loud fuckers, especially compared to those that think they’re nomable. On another note, I’ve been wanting to switch this blog over to stories of more subtle racism, so that last post is probably going to be the last of a dieing breed of posts here on Coloring outside the lines.

So I used to know this white guy who was about 15 years older than me. I was 14 when I met him and we got along fine, mostly because I used him to get out of walking while spic, and he was one of those white boys that wanted to look “thug”. Not the best arrangement, but it worked for us at the time. We’ll call him Ben.

At the time I was working as a server at a Vietnamese restaurant in the Little Saigon area of our city, Usually afterwords I would hang out with my actual friends, however a few times I would go out with Ben because everyone else had plans, and for other reasons that aren’t really important to this post. He lived up in the rich part of the city on Whitey McCracker street. Okay not really, but it was the very rich very white part of town and we always went to his part of town if we were hanging out on our own.

Because he was rich he also liked showing it off and would often take me shopping for no reason, though luckily he didn’t really try to buy me anything after the first time where I tossed all the frivolous shit he gave me. If it can’t be practical it gets tossed away, or it satisfies my pyromaniac tendencies and need for bright shiny fires. However that didn’t stop him from shopping for himself and picking up useful things for me.

Usually he didn’t shop in places that were cheap enough for non-whites to shop in, however every rich neighborhood has at least two token non-whites, usually an Asian and a Black. One time he had taken me to some rather trendy and expensive store, claiming he needed a new pair of shoes. Really it was just an excuse for him to get a $200 pair of Nikes to go with the insanly expensive jeans he had that made him look like he had something sagging them down. I still don’t understand how those pants have been in style for almost 15 years now, they’re not useful and they look ugly as sin, but whatever.

On that day there was a Hispanic kid in the store who obviously wasn’t rich, but he wasn’t poor either. He’d probably had to save for a few months, but he could afford to get the shoes legally and there was no doubt about that. Ben picked up the shoes he wanted after about 30 minutes of of staring at the exact same designs just with different brands and price tags. When we went up to the register the Hispanic kid had just pulled out his credit card. it wasn’t signed on the back though and the cashier refused to accept it without an I.D. The kid was obviously embarrassed and mumbled an apology as he went about searching for his I.D.

The whole spectacle was only about a minute in total, and when the kid left the cashier barely told him to have a good day, not something I could get away with at my job. When Ben came up though the cashier apologized for the inconvenience and took his unsigned card without any problems. He wasn’t even asked to sign for it like the Hispanic kid was.

Ben was dressed in “better” clothes than the kid, however Ben also had a very obviously poor tag-along that looked like they could be his male prostitute from Rentboy or some shit like that. Over all Ben looked like one of the guys I often served who I knew wouldn’t tip because they were rich and had hired a girl so as to have the girlfriend experience with, so they felt entitled to not have to pay attention to others or common decency. If it wasn’t for it being too low brow for his type, Ben would be more likely to steal from the store. But the cashier asked the kid instead of Ben, and than we left the store and didn’t say anything about it, because Ben didn’t think it was odd at all and I was just so horribly uncomfortable with what had happened, especially since everyone else seemed to be fine with it and I wasn’t.

And people wonder why I’m paranoid about being caught in the rich part of town.