I know I’m not the only person who can’t look at red baseball caps the same. Every since Pres. 45 campaigned with that damn hat, I give an immediate side-eye to anyone I see with just the color.
Online of course, because I never saw anyone with a red hat in real time before…or maybe I never cared before because it was just a damn hat at the time.
Fast forward an entire year since the November election of 2016. By the way, remember how we weren’t going to talk about that year? We might have to add 2017 in there too. 2017 was a clusterfuck of shit, but I’ll talk about that in another post near the end of December. Look out for 20SexTeen post. Yeah, because we have to throw hollywood…hell most of America away and start over.
But I Digress.
So on Tuesday, I had an appointment with a Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) inspector. Why? If you’ve been keeping up, the Virgin Islands caught two Category Five Hurricanes back to back in September: Irma and her sister Maria. If you live in the territory, you bet not EVER name your kids after them. We are tired. We are through. I can’t even look at anyone named Irma and Maria the same again.
Anyways, those heffers brought nothing but hateration and holleration in our tropical dancerie and left. So, because I had some issues, FEMA came to check it out…A whole two months later.
I had already cleaned up most of my troubles, but hey, might as well see what they were going to say.
I walked my behind to McDonalds in Golden Rock to meet the guy. When I got there, I see the car, but there’s a white guy in it with a red hat. I pay it no mind because I’m not giving that a second glance. In fact, I was pretty sure I was seeing things. Now before you jump to any conclusions and go “Omg she’s racist,” I need you to look at the demographic wearing that hat, and then some of the things they say about black people, and then get back to me about why I would be uncomfortable seeing something like that.
Moving along, I don’t see anyone else, so I call the guy.
Ring Ring. He answers and he says to me “Hey, you just passed me, I’m in the xxxx car.”
So I turn back around and I approach the car thinking a lot of shit. Like do I really need a new door? Hell do I need the apartment? Shit, I can go to my grandmother’s home right now and pretend this never happened. It has to be a mistake.
I stop walking at this point, because I need to know how am I going to react if it IS That kind of hat. I’d also need to know why thee fuck would you think it’s a good idea?
When I finally prepared the best Maxine Walters, Anchor Sharon Reed response I could think, I approached the car again.
Ole boy rolls down his window and I am ready.
It was just a regular, degular ass hat. No writing on it. It was just red. And the guy was an absolute sweetheart to boot.
But I’m wondering, does anyone else get anxious when they see a red cap now? or is it just me?