roaches & racism

It’s the summer of 2008. T and I have been dating for about a month, it’s hot as Hades outside, and the absence of the sun makes the nights a bit more bearable. My cousin is in town, so she’s chillin’ with us. I mention that I was invited to an acquaintance’s place for bbq, and the next thing I know we’re headed toward free food.

The moment we arrive and enter the house, my cousin grabs my arm. I look at her, she looks at the wall, and I do the same. THERE’S A BIG ASS Continue reading

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walmart & diabetes

So I’m walking through Walmart. I’m feeling good after leaving the gym, and T and I are picking up some groceries before heading back home. There’s yogurt and an assortment of fruits and veggies in our cart, along with a carton each of chocolate and vanilla ice cream. T is trying to figure out what frozen veggies he might take to work to have as snacks, and I’m standing in the aisle waiting and playing on my phone.

And then she comes. Leather black bucket hat, matching oversized black leather coat, cane hooked to the front of her cart, shoulders hunched. She stops at my cart.

“What are you going to do with that?” She nods toward my cart.

“With what?” I ask.

“That ice cream. What are you going to do with that?”

I’m completely confused. Why is this church mother all up in my cart? Why does she need to know how my food is going to be consumed?

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