Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


I’d arrived on campus and had some time to kill before the start of class so I sat down on a bench and started reading. After awhile two African American guys came along and sat on a bench several feet away from me. They were talking so loud I could hear their conversation. They were bitching and moaning about what they felt was the lack of attractive black females on campus.

“The Latinas look good.”
“I wouldn’t talk to them.”
“Why not?
“They all look alike.”
“You heard me son they all look alike. Cubans, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, South Americans, Mexicans, all of them mira mira bitches look alike.”

“Mexicans don’t look like the other ones. You can’t front you can spot those wetbacks a mile away.”


Ordinarily that type of stupidity would have made me laugh but the fact that it came from them out of all people pissed me off. I got up and left before I gave in to the temptation of bitch slapping them with my book bag.


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