(I am walking with my sister down the street. We’re just about to go inside the house when a friendly elderly woman says hello to us. Note: I am a guy.)
Lady:*shouting* “Good morning, ladies! You both look beautiful today!”
(I intend to propose to my rather strange girlfriend. I take her up to a park that overlooks the city. It’s night-time, so the city lights are rather attractive from where we are. We look out over them.)
Me:*nervously* “Honey, I have something I want to say.”
Girlfriend: “Yeah, I thought as much. What did you do this time?”
Me: “I…what?”
Girlfriend: “You only ever take me places when you’re trying to make up for something you did wrong. What is it today?”
Me: “No, no! It’s nothing like that!”
Girlfriend: “Sure it isn’t. This is the part where you try and rationalize what you’ve done and turn it into a good thing. We’ve been together four years now, dear. I know you too well.”
Me: “Listen, will you just hear me out?”
Girlfriend: “Yes, okay. Fine. What is it?”
(I launch into a little speech that I’d prepared, mood dampened slightly by what had just happened. At the end, I get down on one knee.)
Me: “Will you marry me?”
Girlfriend:*instantly* “Yes! Of course, yes!”
(I put on her ring, and we hug. She’s in tears. It’s at this point that she whispers something in my ear.)
(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.)