White privilege fails me
Because I am old in the ways of sin, I dropped the butt of a $5 cigar onto the rain-darkened blacktop of a convenience store parking lot. I was going in for coffee, black, no sugar.
The owner, an immigrant American citizen from a former British colony, saw me from the front window of his small, but sincere, store. When I came in, he told me I shouldn't drop cigar butts in his parking lot, not even when it's raining.
"By God," I said, whipping a Confederate flag from my right pocket, an American flag from my left pocket, and a Bible from my back pocket. "I bet you don't complain when one of your illegal buddies drops the his leftover bombs in your parking lot.
"Where did Obama get the money he sent to Iran!" I yelled, backing the store owner against his counter.
"I'm from India," the store owner yelled, striking me over the head with a bag of CBD gumdrops.
The police came.
"Sir," the officer said, her hand toying idly with the butt of her pistol. "Why did you assault this man?
"Oh, sure," I said. "Muslims assault America and Nancy Pelosi says it's fine. A white American sticks up for his rights, and he gets oppressed."
"Sir," the officer said. "Please calm down. I'm just trying to find out what happened."
A reporter who worked for the local, thin-as-a-credit-card weekly paper blundered into the store, eyes wide for fake news.