Somebody answer this one for me...
Why is it that EVERY time I call ANY sort of government office, a black woman answers the phone? Her answer is always wrong, never makes any sense, she never knows what she's talking about, and I always have to wait on hold while she asks a white person? (I can hear them in the background).
What is the purpose of the black woman? To fulfill a quota, or to answer questions like, "What time does your office close"?
For those who want to call me a racist, go right ahead, but it's not going to change a fucking thing. Telling the truth about anything involving non-whites has been the surest way to get called a racist for the last 30 years, and it doesn't even bother me anymore. You're only kidding yourselves.
I remember one time in Dallas when I walked up to a window at the courthouse to settle a matter, and out of sheer frustration, I ended up asking if there was a white person I could talk to. The real kicker is that she didn't even get mad about it, she just went and found one. She may have been an orangutan, orange hair and all, but to her credit, at least she was able to come back with a white person, and not a blue gum negro, or a piece of aluminum siding.
-denise
Why is it that EVERY time I call ANY sort of government office, a black woman answers the phone? Her answer is always wrong, never makes any sense, she never knows what she's talking about, and I always have to wait on hold while she asks a white person? (I can hear them in the background).
What is the purpose of the black woman? To fulfill a quota, or to answer questions like, "What time does your office close"?
For those who want to call me a racist, go right ahead, but it's not going to change a fucking thing. Telling the truth about anything involving non-whites has been the surest way to get called a racist for the last 30 years, and it doesn't even bother me anymore. You're only kidding yourselves.
I remember one time in Dallas when I walked up to a window at the courthouse to settle a matter, and out of sheer frustration, I ended up asking if there was a white person I could talk to. The real kicker is that she didn't even get mad about it, she just went and found one. She may have been an orangutan, orange hair and all, but to her credit, at least she was able to come back with a white person, and not a blue gum negro, or a piece of aluminum siding.
-denise
Comment