IMPORTANT!
This story is an interracial Love Story. NO SEX!
Just Provocative White Man / Black Woman stuff
Offensive and violent.
Endless conversations ONLY!
DO NOT!!! DO NOT READ further if those things offend you, or you find the categories disliking!
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You seriously must be kidding me; can I once visit the grocery store and be greeted in native English? Plain ordinary, out of the box English. Do I need a dictionary to understand what the foreigners from every f-ing country in the world is saying, trying to impress me with what they think is immaculate English.
No matter if they look like Broke Shields, Claudia Schiffer or Britney Spears. Wow by the way, and to have one of those perfect angels giving my change back for once....for once...
But never such luck. Nope, I get helloed by different colored versions instead. And no matter if this black one kind of look likes Sanaa Lathan, who has some attractive magnetic features, I still want the former.
So, celebrating in the back of my head while ignoring the over-the-top cheerful and almost catching have a nice evening smile from the black girl in her early 30's....I went on my way...hoping for a better tomorrow.
.... .....
The weeks passed and no whiter employees, still the black chick. And guess she is going to say something funny about my limping as well when she's rounding up my items for the day.
"Hello, having a nice day? Anything else you need today?"
Except a white version of you? No, nothing else thanks.
"Sorry sir, something you needed?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Have a nice evening, hope to see you again soon."
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....and there again. I really should start planning my shopping, instead of buying milk, meat or chips every other day.
"You here again. Forgot something yesterday?"
"Just these items."
"Maybe plan your shopping more is a good idea or are you as clumsy with that as you are with watching your step...since you're limping around the store..."
"What?! What did you just say and accuse me of?"
"Sorry sir, I was only trying to be funny and lighten things up. Apologies if I offended you. I was out of line...sorry."
"Since you brought it up so sincere, then yes, I am quite offended...you are provocative and I would like to be serviced by a white version of you for once. A cute white girl who knows what white men like me wants."
"What do white men like you want?"
"You would know if you were white."
"I cannot help you with my skin color, but if you tell me, then maybe I can do something to make you less angry and also wanting to come back to our store, without demanding to see my boss about my misbehavior and me getting fired."
"That I like. Well, you can get down on your knees and blow me. Take me deep and swallow everything your customer has to give you...like a very good cashier."
".........I see. Well, I don't think that is something your white dream-chicks would do for you, and to be honest...I think you are below the dirt under your shoes, and please go see my supervisor.
I have no intention of giving you any more service, ever. I really need this job, but if getting fired is what it takes not to see you again...so be it."
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Was it the right thing to just walk out of there? Of course! I didn't do anything wrong.
If she wasn't this annoying and just let me pay for my groceries, then there would be no problem.
So obviously everything is her fault...obviously....
........clearly her fault...and still...here I lay in the bed, not able to sleep.
"Oh, it's the blowjob-guy. Weren't you man enough to go to my boss and complain like the spineless poor excuse for a man you are? Take your bread and butter and insert them deep in your backside, sir."
"I so would like to choose another line, a super-white line, with a nice cashier just doing her job. Not any talk-backs...just blipping and paying. But unfortunately I'm stuck with you.
I do not plan my shopping, I do day-to-day. And I sure want a blow job, and if you were white I think you could be kind of attractive and cleared for the task.
Those things I can set aside, but the shopping I will not. I will come here almost every day, no matter how much you and I fight, and no matter what you think of it....and me."
"...deep sigh, if not a higher power forced us to work every day. It's a curse.
If I only could say a professional goodbye to my supervisor and then show you the middle finger while leaving this store enthusiastically throwing everything I could get my hands on at you. What a dream!"
"We think alike. But I have the upper hand and I am holding all the aces here."
"....just to be able to flip you off...you are such a..."
"I will be here tomorrow, same time. If you call in sick I will not shed a tear."
"Have the evening you deserve, sir."
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"Didn't see you up front, thought you called in sick like I suggested...or hoped is a better word."
"Sorry to disappoint you. And guess it's below your understanding, but there are other things to do in a store than taking insults from middle-aged white airheads.
Did you hurt your leg walking? Hard to put one foot in front of the other? Clumsy idiot trip on own two feet..."
"First, I think you know we are about the same age. Maybe my manly extremely good looks cloud your judgment. And second, I did fall on my own two feet. The lights went out at the office, and I was walking down the stairs...and fell. Still hurts after almost a month.
Ah, that amuses you, I see."