"Where'd you get them?" asked Amy.
"Cracker Barrel." I replied.
"You got them at the whitest place on earth?! "
"They were on sale."
"You think?"
Amy went on to explain that she knew, most likely, what had happened.
On the order form, where the buyer from Cracker Barrel was supposed to check-
101: White Carolers
102: Black Carolers
"102 Black Carolers" was inadvertently marked. A big, "M'bad", from Da Barrel, the result.
Yet to save the day, along comes a mild mannered (except for me) interracial couple.
Tony has always commented, "We need to get some pictures of some black folks up in here."
Me: Do you say "up in here" because we live on the second floor?
Allison: Oh my God, Tony. They don't make 'em any whiter than that, do they?
Tony: No. They don't.
But that was ten years ago. A lot has changed.
I know some stuff.
People often mistake me for being white, that's how much stuff I know.
For instance, I know that those carolers are really standing in front of an ignited trash barrel to stay warm.
I bet you just see a red tea light from Pier One, don't you?
Uh huh.
White.
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