I'm not big on pulling the race card, but I'm afraid I'll have to make an exception tonight.
My job requires be to be the token black reporter every now and then. Those events usually call for interesting black-on-black experiences. For instance, I remember Andre 3000 giving me the immediate nod when noticing that I was the only young black male attending a press junket for his Class Of 3000 Cartoon series a few years back. I remember receiving similar nods from Terrence Howard and Jay-Z at other events.
Cool! But I just got back from a screening for Black Magic (basketball documentary) at the Bryant Park Hotel in Manhattan. So, the second I check in, I notice this sista greeting folks near the entrance. I wasn't expecting a hug or anything, but she just gave me some emotionless plastic smile. She so happened to be red bone, but that's an entirely different post. Little do you know, I bumped into her on the way out. As soon as I pass her (no smiles or aurevoirs), I hear, "did you enjoy the movie? All right, gentlemen (not Black in case you're wondering), have a good night."
Gentlemen, uh? Cool, I had a skully on, but I was also sporting a pretty nice sweater. And last I checked, I didn't have any holes in my shoes. So why can't you ask me about the movie? Sure, I kept dosing off, but that's not the point. It was too dark in there for you to see my ass anyway. I hate to say it, but this can't be a coincidence. Speak on it!
R.I.P. Heath Ledger!