If you see something . . .
Miss Hag. just returned from an overnight trip to Philly with my lover man. More on that later.
Right now, I would like to relay an incident that happened as we were on the Greyhound bus, waiting to return home to Manhattan. There are a litany of examples to support why I usually choose not to ride Greyhound which I may get into later. A lot of it has to do with just being crushed into a small space with equally unhappy people for a long period of time with no escape pod.
Jason and I chose the first seat in the bus so we could exant immediately. Behind us, sat a young Asian girl and an old Jamaican woman. I hadn't been paying attention to their conversation until it escalated into a loud verbal sparring. The Jamaican woman had made a comment about the Asian girl "talking Chinese" and even used the phrase "talking that ching-chong-ching-chong." To which, the Asian girl calmly explained that the Jamaican woman was racist and how dare she just assume she was Chinese.
The Jamaican woman's response was that she could not be racist because she was black and if anyone was racist it was the Asian girl. She said, "Why are you so nervous? Are you scared to sit by a black person?" The Asian girl replied that she was not afraid, but that she was annoyed because she had to sit by someone so ignorant.
This is the type of situation that Miss Hag. will not avoid getting involved in and so, I turned around to join in the defense of my Asian sista.
As the bus pulled away, the Jamaican woman became very worked up and started yelling at the Asian girl. Here, the kindly bus driver jerked the bus to a halt and threw the old Jamaican woman out -- leaving her to complain to Greyhound security.
Miss Hag. felt badly for the Asian girl and asked her if she was all right. Most of the passengers around us just shook their heads in disbelief. An African-American woman behind the Asian girl piped in that the best course of action for the Asian girl to take would have been to just ignore the old bat. She said, "I live in Massachusetts and I couldn't possibly begin to confont all the crazy people I encounter there."
Still filled with the adrenaline of one confrontation, I responded to this claim by informing her that I live in New York City, the Capital of Crazy, and if some one started talking "Ching-chong-ching-chong" shit to me, you are damn straight I'm gonna say something.
Yes, my friends, you have to choose your battles, but if every intelligent person just lets the crazies get away with spewing their ignorance, the idiocy won't go away. Sure, it's probably best to let most of the bullshit roll off your back. But, occasionally, when you are face to face with some truly ugly facet of humanity, I highly recommend squaring off with the truculent beast of imbecility and giving it a verbal beat down.