The Most Racist Man in America

We had done some work on a power amp for a guy from the southern part of Florida. By "southern part," I don't mean geographically. Mentally, this guy is "southern." He's a snake farmer. This alone drags up images of rebel flag curtains and posters of David Allen Coe. He had been calling us every day for 2 weeks wanting a status check on his equipment. Some would say he was being cautious, others pushy. I know for a fact it was because no one would talk to this man unless they were being paid to do so. This is where I fit in.

So Friday we had his equipment ready to go. He shows up 1/2 hour before closing and starts rambling on about how he's a reptile farmer and blah blah blah. It was harmless enough. As I'm waiting for the credit card program to acknowledge my existance, he begins telling jokes. The first one was harmless enough. Borderline offensive, but just enough so where it was slightly amusing. The jokes quickly degraded into what must have been the Joke of the Day printed on the back of the placemats in the Klan's Dixieland Pork Sandwich Cafe. The N-word was prevalent, though he made enough anti-semetic remarks to make Mel Gibson offended. Finally, after 5 minutes of non-stop garbage I look at him and say "Dude...my dad's black." This, of course, is complete bullshit.

The look on his face was priceless.

"I'm letting you get away with this, because you couldn't possibly have known that I was half black. Maybe you should be more considerate before starting these sorts of jokes."
This was followed by stuttered apologies, quick signatures, and an embarrassed exit. My boss came around the cubicle wall, tears in his eyes. "That is the one thing we didn't consider trying. Thank you."

It's good to finally work somewhere where my mouth doesn't get me in trouble.