I see you, white lady.
I’m not looking right at you but I can see you.
Are you amused by my husband and I having dinner?
Is it a problem that out skin tones don’t match?
or do you like the way i eat this pasta?
The way i add extra red red pepper to the “Cajun” noodles?
Its the way my husband eats his boneless chicken, isn’t it?
Something has to be very amusing for you to be so…
Invested in our meal and our conversation.
You were certainly watching our mouths like you didn’t have a plate of your own in front of you.
It’s lucky for you that i don’t have that particular anxiety.
I could eat on stage if i needed to.
The point is…
I see you, white lady.
I see you.
