Love Is In The Mix

(I’m meeting my boyfriend on a pier to watch the Fourth of July fireworks. It’s a very popular location in a predominately Hispanic neighborhood. Though I don’t look very Hispanic, I am. My boyfriend is Nordic. An old man starts talking to my boyfriend before I find him.)

Old man: “There sure are a lot of people here today, aren’t there?”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, well, it’s the Fourth of July.”

Old man: “There are a lot of them Hispanics, too, aren’t there?”

Boyfriend: “I guess?”

Old man: “The women are nice to look at, aren’t they? You know, you can look, that’s fine. But you can’t marry them. Imagine if you had mixed children with them! They’re taking over our country!”

Boyfriend: “Actually, my girlfriend is Hispanic.”

Old man: “Well, sleeping with them is fine. Just don’t marry them or have kids with them!”

(My boyfriend is speechless. I find him and walk up. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me sweetly.)

Boyfriend: *to me “Hi, my dear. I missed you.” *to the old man* “This is my girlfriend.”

Old man: “She looks like a nice white girl.”

Boyfriend: “Actually, she’s half Puerto Rican. She’s one of those ‘mixed children’.”

(He keeps his arms around me, clearly indicating that we’re not just ‘sleeping together’. He stalks off, mumbling about mixed children and Hispanics.)