Years and years ago I got invited to perform at a house party. It was a really nice house party. It had had one of those buffet-style spreads just expensive enough that even recognizing the food was a class identifier. I remember looking at the food trying to figure out what I could eat, which I was doing very carefully because sometimes people can really freak out when they discover you’re a vegetarian. I was already the only Black person there. I didn’t want to risk any more weird weaponized identity attacks than I had to.
But there I was, looking at the food just as subtly as I could when I noticed a man staring at me from across the room. I glanced over. His stare was aggressive enough that the disarming tactics began automatically.
Nod.
Smile.
Didn’t matter.
“You a vegetarian?” he asked, accusatorily.
Here we go.
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