I am walking down the street one day, minding my own business as I usually do. I notice a pie company that has opened a store front and I’m intrigued…I’d previously only known this company to operate food trucks. Anyway, though I’m not in the mood for pie at the moment, I stop in to grab a menu for future reference.
The person on staff is very engaging….a bit too engaging. My friend and I try to ask questions but he pretty much takes over the conversation. As we ask about business hours and pie offerings, dude proceeds to tell us that he is a “groom-zilla” and that he will temporarily release the other two men in the shop for an hour long break. But they are to hurry back; wedding planning can’t wait. Not sure why we need to know this, but whatevs.
Once these poor men escape, he goes on to tell us about how his father is a veteran, an ex-con, and a racist. At this point it is official. Dude is cray.
We try to redirect the conversation to pie but he goes on and on about how awful his family is. He can’t understand why his father has so much hate…and self-hate at that. What the heck…he put the bait out there, we may as well bite. The following conversation between dude and my friend ensues:
“It’s crazy because we’re 1/3 Japanese. So I don’t understand why he could have an issue with any race since we’re mixed with so many things.”
“But how can you be 1/3 Japanese, though? I mean, you only have two parents. So wouldn’t you have to be 1/2 or 1/4 or 1/8…?”
“Because I’m part Japanese. But only 1/3.”
“Yeah, you said that before. But how can someone be 1/3 of something? Do you mean you’re 3rd generation or…?”
“No, I meant I’m only 1/3. Like we have Japanese mixed in our family. Along with Black and Island and other stuff.”
“But how can you be precisely 1/3 of anything though?”
“Because my grandma and all dem are part Japanese. And my grandma is SUUPPPER lazy! She never helps me cook Thanksgiving dinner. She just sits around and watches TV. Which is all she ever really does whether it’s a holiday or not. She just complains and barks orders while I do all the work.”
My friend grabs me and drags me out of the pie shop. And to think…I just wanted a menu. This is what I felt like after I left the shop.
Until next time…
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