Hip-hop/Spirituality/Freethinking. Speaking for all underdogs!
A Day in the Life of a (N-Word) Black Man.
By Khalil Amani
I write so many damned blogs that some of you probably think I don’t work a day job. Well I do! And today, Tuesday, May 18, 2010, at work—was one of the most racist days of my fifty years on the planet! What happened? I got called a nigger repeatedly!
I grew up in the South where it’s supposedly racist. I grew up in the sixties and seventies where racism was supposed to be more prevalent than today’s new-jack society of racial harmony. But I can’t recall ever being called a nigger (to my face!).
So I fucked around and moved to the Midwest where I’ve been called every name in the book— “colored,” “boy,” “negro,”—and today, the dreaded “N-Word”—“nigger.” (Damn! I can’t wait to move back to the “racist” South!)
Here I am at work, doing my humanitarian work of drawing blood on patients at the hospital when the Emergency Room summons me to come down there and draw a very difficult patient (at least, to them). I jet on down there and do-the-do. As I pass by one particular room, used to keep unstable/combative patients in, I hear a loud bang. So, I peek my head into the room to make sure everything is alright.
(Khalil Amani @ work)
There sits an obviously “flaming” gay white man reading a newspaper. I ask him if he’s okay to which he tells me to “get the fuck out of his room.” “O-kay,” I said, as I give him two-thumbs up and a smile. Why did I do that? This only infuriated him.
Right behind me was a (white) security guard who asked him not to use curse words and to settle down. This only added more fuel to his fire. “Get the fuck outta my room you fuckin’ $10 cop! You fuckin’ shit-stain! You and that nigger—get the fuck outta here!”
Oh no he didn’t! Did this guy call me a nigger?
Straightway, a nurse came and closed his door to prevent his vile demeanor from being heard throughout the E.R. This elevated the situation. All-of-a-sudden, we heard him throwing anything that wasn’t nailed down—phone, table, meal tray—homeboy went off! BAM! CRASH! THUD! KABOOM! It sounded like he was demolishing the room.
Immediately, the security guard and I gloved up to confront this little fellow and slow-his-roll, while the nurse called a “Paul Bunyon,” which means a patient is being unruly and we need every able body to drop what you are doing and come to the E.R. and help subdue the perpetrator.
This motherfucker done called me a nigger, so you know I’m with it! (LOL!) I removed my Versace glasses (because they cost me a mint!) and gloved up.
“Let’s get ready to rummmmmmmble!” (Think Michael Buffer)
Following the security guard’s lead, I follow him into this little fruit-cake’s room where we bum-rush him and gang-tackle his ass! It’s on now! My adrenaline is rushing as I grab one of his arms and fling him across the gurney and put this man-weight on his ass.
Homeboy whips his head around (facing the security guard) and spits in his face! Before the security guard could think, he cold-cocked his ass with an overhand left that sent Ms. Thing’s head spiraling in my direction.
(Spitting on someone is the lowest form of degradation in my book!)
A spitter will usually bite, so I was on guard for a bite. Sure enough, with those fucked-up teeth of his, he took a swipe at my arm with those meth-looking choppers of his. (Missed me!) This guy looked so emaciated in the face. He was either a meth head or HIV positive—no doubt! I’d seen his look a thousand times! Be careful Khalil. This guy is diseased!
“You fuckin’ nigger! You goddamned-fuckin’-low-life-nigger-fuckin’-Avatar-nigger!”
Did this gay-boy just call me an “Avatar nigger?” (LOL!) Oh hell-to-the-naw! What the fuck’s an “Avatar nigger?” Homeboy strung so many words together as we were holding him down that it wasn’t funny! His entire wrath was aimed at me, even though it was the security guard who had given him a punch to his jaw! That mattered not! It was all about the nigger who was subduing him!
“Nigger this, nigger that, fuck you nigger, you Avatar nigger!”
By now, there’s about twenty-five staff members helping and listening to this gay dude’s negrophobic rant against me. This guy’s mouth is just inches from my shoe and a thought comes across me to give him a swift kick in the jibs for good measures, but I refrained myself (unlike the security guard who knocked the shit out of him).
I’ve gotta admit it! I’ve never seen the movie “Avatar.” Aren’t they some blue-looking, long neck, pointy-ear characters? Do I really look like an Avatar? A Nigger Avatar? Now I’ve gotta rent the movie and make the connection.
Do white people still think that calling black people niggers will get a rise out of us? I mean, in the street, its one thing to be called a nigger, but in a professional setting—It’s a limp dick—an anticlimactic fart that doesn’t even stink! And being that I don’t see myself as a nigger, I kinda started feeling sorry—not for myself—but for all of my white coworkers who had to endure one of their racial peers and his bigotry and racism. Many of them were embarrassed and pulled me aside to apologize for the Caucasian Persuasion’s racism. I told them that they are not responsible for none but themselves. Racism is alive and well—black president notwithstanding!
A few hours later, during the lunch hour, I ventured down to the cafeteria to get some grub and wouldn’t you know it—they were serving, for the first time (as far as I can tell) Southern Fried Chicken! (LOL!) Now you know a brotha can’t resist chicken! Fried chicken! Nigga what? Nigga who? Chicken?
I see what’s happening today! It must be “National Fuck with Black People Day!”
As baaaaaad as I wanted to order some Southern Fried Chicken, something within was telling me; “You know Khalil! They just fuckin’ with you! If you get the chicken they’re gonna offer you a side of watermelon for free nigger! Just look around you. Everybody is watching the nigger [you!] to see if the stereotype is true! [Black people love chicken & watermelon] Run from the Kryptonite [chicken] and have that healthy salmon! You can do it Khalil!”
(Why would anyone call me a "nigger?" Maybe a nigga...LOL!)
I did just that! Ordered that dry-ass salmon, while I watched those white folks devour (with great delight) that Southern Fried Chicken. At one point, I could’ve sworn I saw a coworker holding up a piece of chicken and waving its aroma in my direction. The fuck?
It’s just one day in the life of a
nigger black man. SMH!
(Ps. We tested this guy's blood for HIV since he spit in the face of the security guard and he was HIV POSITIVE!)