The Race Card Is Not A Form Of ID

(I work at a gas station, and our policy is that if a person looks under 35 we have to ID them for alcohol before we can even ring them up. A customer brings up a 24-case of beer.)

Me: “Can I see your ID, please?”

(The customer searches his pants.)

Customer: “Sorry, I must have forgot it. But you remember me.”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t, and I can’t sell it to you without ID.”

Customer: “Let me check in my car.”

(He walks out; a few minutes later he comes back.)

Customer: “I don’t have it, but come on! I am old enough!”

Me: “I am sorry, but if you look under 35, we are not allowed to sell this unless you have ID.”

Customer: “It’s because I’m white, huh? That’s why you won’t sell it to me. You have a thing against white people!”

Me: “Sir, if I did, then that would mean that I hated my family, who—”

Customer: “No, no, no, it’s all white people you hate.”

(Walking outside, I see him stop a young white couple who are my regulars. They come in laughing.)

Young Couple: “Wow, that guy out there is nuts. Did you know he is telling everyone who will listen that you are a racist and that you hate white people?”

Me: *shaking my head* “Yep, that’s me! I hate white people. I hate myself, my mom, and my sister.”

(We had a good laugh at that.)