Wasting one’s hate
I, much like a few of my friends, am trying my best not to blog or otherwise post onto anywhere in social media about what went down here in the United States politically on Tuesday night, but I’ve recently had a discussion with one of my close friends about what we have been seeing on our Facebook feeds over the past few days concerning, how can I say this, unkind acts to certain demographics across this country. Quite honestly, I’m not sure how to feel about that. Some people feel that I should have a sense of outrage due to the fact that I am at least 80% Hispanic (Mexican specifically) and 20% American Indian (or Native American… however people want to call it) from my dad’s side and I’m not too sure of the native blood of my mom’s side but for sure 100% Hispanic from her. Now, honestly I don’t know the percentage of what indigenous people from Mexico that part is coming from, but I know for a fact there is some. Who knows if it was Incan, Mayan, or whatever else in Mexico, but in either case it’s in there. So, I say all of that to say that I’m as minority as they come. I was born in this beautiful state of Texas here in the United States, so even though I have a Spanish last name (yay to the Jewish people in Spain who came up with my last name!), and look pretty Mexican, I’m an American first. Hell, I only poorly speak Spanish! LOL! Some people would joke I barely speak intelligible English! Hahaha! That’s beside the point. I’m fluent in sarcasm, comedy, and vulgarity (in two languages even!) though!
I’m an American, and yes the President-Elect of this country has said some pretty racist things, sexist things, and every other form of bigoted thing, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t bother me. I know, I know, this is the part where you gasp and say “DAVID!!!!! HOW THE HELL CAN YOU SAY THAT?!?!” Allow me to explain. It doesn’t bother me because for whatever you want to blast out at me, I really don’t give a damn about any insults anybody that doesn’t know me throws my way. Why should I care? These theoretical people don’t know me, so their points are invalid as far as I’m concerned. That’s not to say that it’s going to happen in my town because as of this latest census, El Paso is 81.3% Hispanic, and I’d like to argue even more so where I work and where I live, so the chances of any bigotry being flown my way is highly unlikely. To my point, though, I still wouldn’t care if it did.
It’s happened before to me actually, so I feel like I have at least some experience with it. I’ll tell you the short version of the story. One cold, ice and snow filled early morning in the greater Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex after a night of seeing what ended up being after that night our NBA team of choice, the Dallas Mavericks, play a game against the Brooklyn Nets, drinking, and concert (we saw Quiet Company at a bar in Deep Ellum and I HIGHLY suggest giving them a listen) attending, we ended the long and icy cold night at a Whataburger. What else are you supposed to do when you live in the southern United States where, God willing, there is a Whataburger in your area?
Mmmm… don’t even get me started with Whataburger. That’s God’s gift to all mankind and I apologize to those who haven’t had the chance to enjoy a meal of food from there.
Anyway, I digress; my friends and I get to this Whataburger close to our friend’s house and proceed to look up at the menu to decide on what we’re going to order. There were a few people in front of us, they order, and then we start to order. Out of the 3 of us, I ordered last, I got my cup to fill with delicious root beer, and sat with my friends at a table. A few minutes pass by and the people ahead of us get their meal. Roughly 5 more minutes pass by and one of my friends gets his meal. Another 2 minutes pass and my other friend gets his meal. There I was thinking “hell yea! I’m next! I can’t wait! These two guys are hammered drunk; I’m not by some miracle, so I can really enjoy this meal. Cool!” A few minutes pass by and the people that came in after we did get their meal too and I’m thinking “OK. WTF?” Well, 20 minutes pass by and I finally get my food. I’m actually afraid, thinking about it now, that they probably did something to my burger because it was pretty tasteless (which never happens) and I’m sure the bastards probably spit in it. Aside from that, there was no real reason why it took that long, aside from the fact that more than likely my skin was just a lil’ bit too tanned for the lady working the counter at the fast food joint at 2am there in north Texas. I was the only real ethnic looking person in the joint (my friends included), so I quickly did the math and called it what it was. What can I do, right? No harm, no foul. The extra time it took to get my food served to me allowed me to joke around some more with my friends and pick their intoxicated brains a bit. The action only slightly bothered me, but I let it go just as fast. People are going to do things like that. If it makes them feel better about being assholes, then more power to them. I choose to not feed that hunger for them.
I guess what I’m trying to say, in a very long winded form, is for people not to feed into the bigots, the racists, the whatever-phobic people out there’s actions if you do encounter them. Don’t get pissed off and fire back at them. That’s what they want. Take note of it internally, and proceed with the rest of your activities. And afterwards, pray for them. Hate sucks, man. And fighting hate with hate isn’t going to solve a damn thing. I always go back to the beautiful words of the wrongfully accused black man in the film Harold and Kumar go to White Castle when he says, “In the end, the universe tends to unfold as it should.” I truly believe that.
Have a great weekend, y’all!