Darren was a brotha on a mission. It was Friday night and the club lights were coming up and it was time to take someone home and this white chick he'd been talking to didn't even put up the pretense of playing hard to get. Darren had more than Jungle Fever; he had Sub-Saharan Tropical Rain Forest Malaria and slutty white girls were his penicillin. The object of his affection smelled of beer, cigarettes, and hair spray. Her drug-store eyeliner was smudged and all that was left of her lipstick was a barely detectable line of equally cheap, pink lip-liner framing her thin lips. The rest of her lipstick was adorning the six or seven bottles of beer she'd consumed. Her name was Jeannie . . . Janey . . . Jenny, something like that, but her name really didn't matter to him. She was so wasted, he could have called her Matilda and she probably wouldn't have noticed. She grabbed her purse and air kissed the girlfriends she had gotten a ride with goodbye and trailed behind Darren, stumbling and teetering on her cheap heels, completely comfortable leaving with a total stranger she'd only met an hour ago.
Darren held her arm, making sure she wouldn't fall and bust her ass. When they got outside to his truck, he had to hold her blonde hair back from her face as she blew big chunks in the parking lot. Better projectile vomit there than in his vehicle. Behind the tinted windows and feeling better having relieved herself of some of that alcohol, she started chatting away. "Turn on the radio. Ohhhh, 50cent, I LOVVVE him. He's so gangsta. You know what I mean? Keeping it real. From the streets. Word. Me and my girlfriends would love to just hang out with him and his homies, ya know?" She turned up the radio as loud as it would go and leaned out the window like she was a Crip in South Central. Never mind the fact that the closest she'd ever been to any hood was getting lost in Hartford once and driving into an area where she felt like she had to lock her doors. "And his wife Beyonce is so pretty right? She's got a real badunkkadunk. She's got some junk in the trunk, you know what I'm saying? Drop it like it's hot. Drop it like it's hot. Black women have the best asses. I wish I had a big ole booty like black women."
Darren was concentrating on the drive home. He contemplated telling her that Beyonce was married to Jay-Z, not 50cent, but what was more important to address was the fact that she had struck a nerve with him and he had to set her straight. "I don't like those big, jungle butts. Fuckin' black chicks wit their Ubangie butts 'n shit, n' big lips n' shit. Fuck dat. Gorilla lookin' bitches . . ." He was hardly finished detailing what he considered the many repulsive features of Black women but Jenny passed out somewhere in the middle of his diatribe.
She woke up and continued on with her conversation like she hadn't missed a beat. "What do you do? I go to school at Stamford. I'm studying to be a whatchamacallit, a anthropologist, they study people, you know what I'm saying? I really want to be a interior designer or a makeup artist but my parents made me take anthropologism. It totally sucks. What do you do? Are you a drug dealer? You look like this guy I fucked once who was a drug dealer. He had some awesome X, dude. God, his cock was huge. Black guys are really packing. I only fuck black guys, you know what I'm saying? You know what they say, 'Once you go black you never go back.' Black guys are the bomb in bed. Man, I swear if my dad ever found out that I was fucking niggers . . . oops, sorry, I mean niggazz, you now what I'm saying, he would kill me." Jenny's penchant for talking without caring if the other person contributed or not, heightened by her inebriation, didn't seem to bother Darren one teeny, tiny, little bit. He wasn't even particularly disturbed by the fact that her "hood" vernacular came directly from MTV or that she had stereotyped him as a degenerate. He thought she was hot and that was all he cared about.
They arrived at Darren's apartment in no time at all. It was a fairly decent complex with a pretty diverse group of residents, not too extravagant, certainly not the ghetto. They pulled into the parking lot in front of his building and Jenny couldn't wait to get things started. The second Darren turned off the engine, she dove for his cock. She didn't mind the taste of another woman's pussy on his dick, or at least she didn't say that she did, because Darren had fucked some random bitch in the bathroom at the club for a hot minute. It had been just long enough to get his dick wet but not enough to cum, so he was ready for some head and then some hot pussy. Jenny didn't disappoint. She sucked his cock like a porn star, gagging on it and deep throating it, spitting on it and begging to get her face fucked, all while still in the front seat of his car.
It was time for them to get more comfortable so he pushed her away, with some difficulty mind you, she was really intent on giving him head, and zipped up. True to the nature of most drunken white girls, Jenny felt the need to flash her tits to the world in the cool night air. Some old white dude had paid good money for her brand new 38DD's in exchange for the opportunity to eat her pussy any time he called and she was damn proud to show them off whenever the mood hit her. "Yeah, you like my hot, fucking tits, Derrick? Woo Hoo!" If she'd been on the beach in Daytona during Spring Break, it might have been appropriate. At 2:30 in the morning in a residential apartment complex in Connecticut, it was rude and inconsiderate. And apparently, knowing his name wasn't a priority to her either.
The lights in the first floor apartment came on with all the commotion and Darren quickly grabbed Jenny by the arm and quickly pulled her towards the stairs to his second-story walk up. His downstairs neighbor was used to being awakened by Darren and his endless string of trampy white women in the middle of the night.
"Quiet down," he said, "that fucking bitch who lives downstairs from me is always giving me dirty looks. She's just fucking jealous I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole."
"YEAH, FUCKING JEALOUS CUNT BITCH!" Jenny yelled into the night towards the complete stranger's apartment. "I'm going to get this big, fucking, black cock and you won't get any, you ugly whore."
Darren's downstairs neighbor was neither ugly nor was she a whore. She was a quiet, attractive, young Black woman who was far more tolerant as a neighbor than most people would have been. She never called the cops or anything but she didn't bake cookies for him at Christmas either. Darren hated her with a passion because he just knew that every time she looked at him that she was judging him for dating white women exclusively. It really didn't matter that he was completely fabricating her thoughts in his mind. He especially couldn't stand the sight of her because she wore her hair in dreadlocks and he thought it was just plain stupid to wear a hairstyle that reminded the whole world that her hair was nappy and ugly. He kept his own head shaved bald so he didn't have to answer questions from girls about his own particularly dense hair texture.
Darren had never, not once in his life, dated a Black woman. From the time he was in the first grade, he wanted to sit next to the white girls, just like all the women he saw on TV. When all the little white boys on his little league team were making fun of him, making a game out of calling him the various racial slurs they'd learned from their older brothers and neighborhood friends, he learned then that being white was better than being black. In his little adolescent mind, he wished he could be white. He knew he couldn't but as long as white girls liked him, he felt validation. He especially hated black girls because they reminded him that he would always be those names the other boys called him. In high school he was a jock and he played sports year round in order to be with all the cheerleaders. In his predominately white college, he was the campus stud, having white girls line up in the dorm hallway to swing on his Mandingo cock. He made it known to the few black girls on campus that even an ugly white girl was WAY better than any black girl. He didn't like the fat ones so much, but he'd rather have a slutty looking white girl to bang than a black chick any day of the week.
Now that he was a productive member of the community, holding down a job as a fireman, he had plenty of Black male friends, all of whom only dated white women coincidentally. He stayed as far away from Black women as he possibly could. He thought Black women were ugly, loud, unsupportive, sassy, and stupid. The KKK could have used him as a spokesperson when it came to his opinion of black women. He'd never even so much as had a conversation with a Black woman other than his mother and his sister, let alone dated one, so he had no way of knowing what Black women were really like. Assured that there wasn't a burglar breaking in or that no one needed assistance, his downstairs neighbor turned off her light just as the pair passed her front door and Darren said in a voice loud enough to make sure she heard, "Black bitch."
That inspired Jenny to give her little speech about race, loud enough for all the neighbors to hear. "What the fuck is her problem? Doesn't she know color doesn't matter? Geez, Martin Luther King said that thing about . . . you know . . . about how color doesn't matter. I'm not racist. I only fuck Black cocks. Get over it you fucking jungle bunny, slavery was over a long time ago." It was pretty much assured that Jenny wouldn't be getting a job doing diversity or sensitivity training upon graduation.
Once inside his sparsely furnished apartment, Jenny wanted the party to start. "You got any meth? I need something to keep my buzz going. Fuck, I need a drink really bad." She started pulling off her denim mini skirt, g-string, and top, of course, leaving on her heels, and started posing like Paris Hilton at a photo shoot. "Hey," she said with a flash of drunken brilliance, "why don't you call some of your friends over and we can all party, you know what I'm saying, and get really freaky. I need some fucking black horse cock rammed in me. Gangbang style, you know what I'm saying? I swear, I'm such a fucking slut, right?"