I regularly exercise my right to walk out of the store unaccosted. Sometimes I’ll let the checker glance into my bag and check off my receipt, but most times I walk right past him or her, daring them to stop me my intense eye contact. They never say or do anything.
Last winter, a friend of mine had a racist offer him money because he’s white! In his words:
“Walking to work in the blowing snow today an older woman in a minivan honked, pulled over and offered me a dollar coin to go get myself a coffee… I just replied with “I have a job”… “I’m a bike mechanic” explaining both why I didn’t need the loonie (that badly) and why I dressed like a loonie would be consideration for opening a trust fund. She then mentioned that she’s “just trying to spread it around… white English people are starving!”… oh good… a SUPPORTIVE Nazi.”
Sadly, he didn’t take the loonie. I thought he should have, then split it with a black Francophone or something.
I had an interesting experience with the upside of racism a few years ago, when I went to my first Mardi Gras parade put on by the Zulu. The prize throw from the Zulu parade is a coconut, often painted, decorated, etc. They pass about maybe 10,000 on a parade route with a crowd that that year was estimated at maybe 3 million people, so as you can imagine, it takes some creative begging to get one.
Anyway, the very first float of my very first Zulu parade goes by, and I stick out my hand, along with everyone around me. We happened to be on a block where I guess we were the only white people at that point – more came along later, but it certainly wasn’t a problem; everyone gets along on Mardi Gras day – and all I can figure is that because mine was the only white hand sticking out of the crowd, that’s why the guy handed the very first coconut to be passed out that day to me.
So I not only got my coconut, but I got it because I was white. And apparently my squealing and jumping up and down won me the approval of the folks around us; we ended up having some good eatin’ from the heavenly barbecues of the family groups on our block.
Me too, except that I never allow anyone to check my receipt or paw through my bags. A couple of times, they have asked to check my bags, and I politely declined.
I remember one interview years ago where Arsenio Hall was being teased by some white female guest commenting that she heard that black guys were hung like rhinos, and he said “Well… not all of us, I want to know here I can get one one of of those things”