Fuck you, white boy!

The BBQ Pit
1

Well, I was bound to finally have a bad experience with somebody in Portlandia, city of Nice People. I went to the local QFC for some groceries and emerged with two heavy bags, headed out to the car across the street. A fella who looked like an American Indian was outside the doors, astride a bicycle, and he mumbled something at me that I couldn’t hear. I glanced at him, then continued toward the crosswalk. He said “excuse me!” in a louder voice, and added something that I still didn’t understand, and motioned over his shoulder. I saw that he had a backpack on that had a bunch of flowers sticking up out of the top.

Assuming that he was asking if I wanted to buy some, I shook my head and said “no thanks”. As I walked away, he started ranting in a conversational tone, and I heard the words “fucking asshole”. I kept walking into the crosswalk and I heard him shout “Fuck you, white boy! Fuck you!” I looked back at him, which apparently was all it took for him to really start in: "Fuck you!! FUCK YOU, WHITE BOY!!

By this time, I was at the car. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw him coming across the street on his bike. I quickly set the bags down, reached in my pocket for my keys with my right hand and palmed my pocket knife with my left hand, just in case he decided to press the issue. Apparently the asshole was finished with me, as he turned away and pedaled off down the sidewalk.

Now, I had my share of run-ins in Anchorage with down-and-out drunks, Native and non-native. By and large, once you brushed them off, they left you alone. This guy was pretty aggressive, and I suspect that if I had engaged him further, we’d have had a dustup there and then. But it angered me. It’s not my fault that you have to sell flowers to make enough money to buy your nightly pint. Being white doesn’t make me an asshole, any more than being red makes you a victim.

I really hope we don’t cross paths again: I’m not a violent person, but I have a low tolerance for assholery and a quick temper, and it’s not going to go well for you, my friend.

2

He could have simply been mentally unstable and just ranting w/o the intent of racism, but none the less, at least you avoided a bad situation from getting worse.

3

The Google ads seem to have missed the point of the OP.

4

“Fuck you, white boy”? for some reason that cracks me up. Really, that’s the worst thing he could think of to say?

5

At least he didn’t call you a cracker-ass cracka.

6

It was the aggression, not the racism that bothered me. But you’re right; perhaps the cheese has slipped off his cracker.

7

Ah, now he gets tough…

8

Portland. Is. Weird.

9

Here in puddletown, we call them types “Fucking crazy motherfucker”. Or at least that’s what I call them whenever I see someone like that. Certainly out of the norm in Portland, that’s for sure.

As an aside, I was once called a “honkey” by an Aleut girl in Fairbanks when I went to school up there in '87. It still makes me laugh. Good times at UAF.
Mark

10

Hey, I went to UAF from 1984-1988. So yeah.

11

Meaning what, exactly? I suppose I could have set my bags down and punched the guy out, but that’s really not my nature, and it probably would have gotten me arrested. I’m tough enough at six feet and 230 pounds, but am 62 years old. I suppose you would have just laced him with a few snarky comments and watched him shrivel into helplessness. . .

12

It’s because you keep playing that funky music.

13

TOO good, in my case. I flunked everything except ROTC my first semester in 1965, but managed to rebound and stay on for two years before Vietnam came looking for me.

14

It could have been worse. He could have told you to play that funky music.

ETA Damn you Captain Amazing. Switching joke to “You can’t guard me”. Pretty popular on the b-ball court.

15

A friend of mine was wearing a t-shirt that said, “I’m secretly a ninja.” He walked into a 7-11, and a black guy hanging out by the front door saw the shirt and said, “You a white ninja? Ha! More like a white nigger!” Which, more than anything, just confused my friend. A few minutes later, on leaving the store, the same guy saw him and apologized for calling him a nigger. “Man, I shouldn’t have called you a nigger. That was fucked up.”

Conclusion: cocaine is a hell of a drug.

16

Were you playing that funky music at the time?

ETA: Beaten to the punch line!

17

That’s what I love about New York the city of people who are indifferent. No one gets too upset if they say, “Fuck you White Boy!”

18

So how was that funky music…and so on…

19

can someone explain this to me?

20

What were you doing uptown? Why were you chasing their women around?