What It Takes To Piss Off A Canadian

(I am a Canadian visiting family in Alabama. I am at a mall with my aunt, but we have separated for a bit for some personal shopping time. I am in line to pay behind a white-haired white woman who is behind a younger African-American woman. I am kind of in my own world until I notice how hunched the African-American woman’s shoulders are as she steadfastly keeps her back to us as she unloads her cart. Then, I notice what the white woman in front of me is saying, and hoo boy, is it racist. I plonk my shopping basket down where I am standing and storm around to the white woman’s face and go off. I don’t say anything especially coherent, just a string of abuse, punctuated with demands for her to leave. She tries to respond, but I grow to a level, screaming pitch. Security comes up to break it up, but I don’t stop. A manager appears, but I don’t stop. I won’t stop until the horrible woman drops her basket and storms out of the store.)

Security: “Ma’am, you have to leave.”

Me: “One sec.”

(I turn to the African-American woman who is standing there, tears running down her face.)

Me: *to the cashier* “How much will her stuff cost?”

Cashier: *silence*

Security: “Ma’am! You have to leave.”

(I can see that the total is about $20 and about half her stuff has been input.)

Me: *to the cashier* “What do you think? Like fifty bucks?”

Cashier: *still silence*

Security: “Ma’am!”

(I pull $50 out of my bag — as a tourist, I have quite a bit of cash on me — and put it on the last of her items on the counter. Turning to the African-American woman:)

Me: “The whole world isn’t like her.”

(I allowed myself to be escorted from the store. When I found my aunt, she angrily reminded me that there was a real chance I could have been shot for that – Canadians don’t think of that – and she made us leave the mall.)