As Sure As Obama is our Next President...

...I am black. Take that as you will.

Now, on to more important things. Ya'll, I musta died on the 4th of July and gone to ABH (Awkward Black Heaven). I was invited to a black people BBQ by a friend, who is nameless at the moment but will most likely comment on this post after its done, that I really wanted to see. The kicker: she is as white as cocaine but only hangs out with...us. Ya got me? Good, but I digress. Dreading the trip because of my awkwardness around my own people, I forced myself to go so I could align myself with "Cocaine's" good graces. I grabbed my ipod and walked my black ass over to her place in the Tahitian sun and arrived sweating, dizzied, and flustered from the previous evening's festivities. Upon my entry, my nightmare came to life...a sea of 20 negroids staring at me like I was that haggardly white lady that always shuts down your house parties. Mmh. The first comment from the group..."What's wrong with you?" Did I know the random ghetto clone that asked...no. Did I care, duh. I wanted to make a good first impression. Apparently I looked crazy and evidently, without speech, the group agreed. So I plopped my way through the house and planted myself in a chair with a plate of food, which happened to be the one good thing to come from the visit.

While I was eating the entire room was divided into two teams that were playing a board game against each other. I wanted to show that my awkwardness could be something to embrace by randomly laughing and commenting in the middle of the game which only resulted in that "oh please" side-eye from the bunch and the following exchange:

Cotton-Weave Carol: "Who's team are you on?"

Me: "Oh I'm not on anyone's team, just throwing out song suggestions haha."

Cotton-Weave Carol: "Well, could you keep your suggestions to yourself, we are trying to win
here." (Cue chickenhead eye roll)

Me: SHUTDOWN.

After finally joining a team that had a random homely white girl (who wasn't my friend) and an asian guy I thought I was having fun because we related on an Aerosmith (don't hate) song he was singing...until Buckwheat's older sister made the following comment to me:

"Look at you cosigning like you know what he's talking about."

My thought=Bitch, look at you sitting there, with your face, bye. I was through. It was time to leave there like you depart the bathroom after dropping off kids at the pool that a mother could never even love. Where had I gone wrong with these tragic looking athletes? Were they jealous of my cultural edginess? Or maybe it was my awkward 1 minute pause-and-stare combo as I walked in the door. It could have been the fact that I said, "Wow, all of the songs you guys are thinking of for this game are from when we were 4 years old, can we update to the new millenium please?" I do not know and probably never know where I went wrong with Gabrielle COONion (I know that was too much but its related to her slave-like weave, and fuck...I'm heated) and Nia WRong. All I know is that this was more than an Adventure In Candyland, it was a vacation in chocolate hell. I'm inviting my friend over next time.

Hate me? I don't give a damn.

I'm Flawed Cuz I'm Human,

Fort

p.s. Tell me why the white girl on my team started singing that song, "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts" from the Lion King and our people looked at her like she was Gary Coleman's wife. I attempted to cut the tension by saying "I guess we'll just take her word for it." A choir of chirping crickets commenced.