Apocalyptic Rabbit Speaks

How’ve you been, World? It’s been a few days, I know. Sorry about that. 

It’s a beautiful day in Newark, Delaware and I have a colossal stress headache. It’s a stress headache due to the stress of my worrying about the fact that I have had a solid headache going now for 3 days in a row. Is that normal? How many days in a row should one have a headache before thinking about seeing a doctor?

As the young people like to say, blaarrgghh.

In other news, my new job at the shipping place in Newark seems to be going well. Although I DID have a customer come in today who royally pissed me off by deciding it was appropriate to share his racism with me. He was sending a laptop back to the manufacturer (a company with a Japanese name), and, by way of complaining about having to deal with “foreigners” on the telephone, he leaned over the counter to me and said, “Man, I’d do anything not to have to deal with those people — you know — the gooks“. I was naturally kind of stunned to hear that, so I said, “Excuse me? What did you just say?” I wasn’t sure I even heard the guy right. So he repeated it. Louder. As in, completely and entirely unashamed of his racism. He looked at me with this smile on his face that seemed to suggest that he felt I should sympathize with the source of his pain. “You know, the gooks,” he said.

Okay, first of all I didn’t even realize people even still used that horrid expression. But that he thought I should be sympathetic to it was nauseating. I wanted to vomit.. So I actually excused myself for a moment to the back while my boss continued to help him. I didn’t really indicate to the guy why I excused myself.

And that’s my shame. I feel ashamed that I was so afraid of potentially angering my boss that I didn’t stand up for what was right when the moment presented itself to me. Was I wrong to excuse myself in such a neutral fashion? I mean, I excused myself from his presence exactly one beat away from when he said what he said, so, I imagine he might have possibly had an inkling of some kind that he had just said something wrong. But I really feel low that I didn’t say, “You know what? What you just said was very offensive and I’m going to excuse myself now – perhaps someone else here can help you.” Is it all a matter of picking your battles when you can?

I find myself now hoping that there is a one-in-a-million chance I’ll run into that guy on the street in the next few days. Hoping that, maybe at the bus stop, or in the lobby of the supermarket, he’ll see me, remember me, and strike up a conversation. Hoping that when that happens, I’ll open my mouth instead of fearfully clamming shut and tell him what I really think of his racist attitudes.