Friday started with a bang, and by bang I mean Philadelphia’s Finest slamming the back passenger side door of my car in utter dissatisfaction at the fact that The Little Brother wasn’t carrying any weapons. They, the police that is, were waiting outside of my apartment building I presume looking for a black male 4’0” to 7’0” aged 20-50 due to some unknown crime in the city. At the same time The Little Brother, Sister and I left my building on our way to my cousin’s 25th birthday party (odd it turned out to be a good time even though my cousin was over 1 1/2hrs late for her own event- colored people time in a major way ugh)....Shortly after coasting through the stop sign at the end of my block, because I didn’t realize the Fuzz was in luke warm pursuit, my mirrors were flooded with the swirling red and blues. Instinctively I clicked my seatbelt in place and motioned for The Little Sister to do the same. No sense in adding an additional click it or ticket violation. As I began rolling my window down ready to address Dickhead Officer Number 1 I noticed he was violently trying to open my driver side back door. Dickhead Officer Number 2 stood ready directly behind Number 1 with his hand every so nicely on his 45. Even with DON 1 going barnyard mad on my back door I refused to unlock. And since he still hadn’t even addressed me as the driver I didn’t feel the need to aid his struggle.
Honestly it was more of a WTF moment than anything else watching DON 1 attempting futilely to open a locked car door.
After a minute of watching DON 1 fight the door handle, the Little Brother opened the door only to be patted down common criminal style.
DON 1: What do you have on you? (Continues to pat down everything minus the family jewels)
The Little Brother: Nothing but my cell phone, wallet and keys.
DON1: What is that a vest you wearing (Might I add a very nice fashion not bullet proof vest I selected from Urban Outfitters)? You got any weapons on you? What are you fiddling with in your hand? (Shining the fluorescent flashlight throughout the entire car)
The Little Brother: I just told you nothing. I don’t have anything on me but my cell phone, wallet and keys.
DON1: (Turns to me in the driver seat after realizing my brother only had a cell phone, wallet and keys) You should really think about getting your right tail light replaced.
Me: Uh-huh (No need for common courtesy at this point)
DON1: The right side light in the back is out, get it fixed.
Me: I heard you
Driving while black can be so frustrating!
On a brighter note, the Chrisette Michelle concert was fantabulous! Impressive vocals and entertaining company made for a good night and almost cleansed my mind of the utter ridonkulousness of the prior. The un-shining star, Mailroom Boy was an hour and a half late to pick me up. Since I know he is notoriously late I didn’t get ready on time. As fate may have it his lateness proved golden since the show started two hours late. Clearly the concert gods had my back.
This is one of the main reasons I could never actually date Mailroom Boy. I would literally rip his face off if he was that tardy for anything that I planned. Ok maybe not literally but you get where I’m going with that.
I won gold stars with his friends and was even invited to the bbq the following weekend. This isn’t surprising to me, I rock at first impressions! His friends are entertaining so if he extended the offer I would consider.
After the concert we lounged in a private room of the Foundation club which dripped of Bollywood décor. At any moment I thought belly dancers would dash in and begin performing on the tables. Did I forget to mention the wooden carvings of the Kama sutra on the wall? I imagine some interesting happenings taking place in this private room with oversized pillows and plush couches.
By the time I made it home it was close to 4AM. Sunday was game day (NBA Finals) and I invited The Best and Nurse Friend down for the festivities, mainly watching Dwight Howard in all of his chocolate-ness. Minus the Godson jumping on my last nerve, The Spaniard ditching to play soccer and the Best Friend locking her keys in the car a good time was had by all.
Oh did you notice how The Spaniard wasn’t involved in any of my post work plans. That’s happening more and more lately….
3 Pardon My French:
I can't even begin to imagine how infuriating it is to be pulled over just because of the color of your skin. I feel for you hon. I'd tell you to file a complaint.. but I am sure you've been there done that and have nothing to show for it.
I am glad the concert was a great one. Hopefully it helped make up for the frustration of the asshole cops and the way you were treated.
I SO wish the racial bullshit would stop. ((((((AQLC)))))))
If it's any consolation, here in the Burgh the cops are like that, and you don't have to be black to be treated that way. They tazed an old lady who was just WALKING in a protest. It was all over the news.
And me, I was walking a friend out one evening, who happened to be a guy, and apparently someone had called the cops at some point about some couple screaming bloody murder and asking for help (neither of us had heard it).
Anyway, he and I were accused by the cops of being the ones to do this. I insisted we'd both been in the apartment up to this point.
"You weren't fooling around in the back yard, were you?"
I wasn't even dating this guy-- he was one of my buds from college.
"Er, no..."
It took them a long time to get the gist that we weren't Baddies.
Hope your brother isn't too traumatized!
The change up, I like. Okay, the driving while black thing... I am soooo afraid of my son driving by himself in the next couple of months. He'll drive my husband's truck, he promised. Said truck has DARK tint! Last month I was stopped, said it was because of the license cover. WTH! I'm afraid that my son, 5"10, athletic build, with dreads - target. I'm praying already!
So, the concert with mail boy, you changed your mind. Sounded like fun.
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