Unfiltered Story #288438

When he was growing up my father’s family was friends with many other families on his street, though due to moving away or personal falling out, by the time I was born many of them were no longer a part of our lives. One year he takes me to the joint birthday party of two family friends he hasn’t seen in years.

When I get there I don’t recognize anybody except for him. Of the two friends, one is white and one is black, and the races of the guests is pretty much split right down the middle between the two. Me and my dad are white. I sit down at a table with some empty seats, where two black ladies are also sitting. We do the usual friendly greetings and introductions.

Lady: I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.

Me: I haven’t been. My dad was friends with [hosts] growing up in the 60s and 70s, but they fell out of touch.

Lady: Oh, are you here with the Whites?

Me: Yeah. (Pause) Wait, what?

Turns out there was a family there with the surname White, who no, I was not there with.