Hubby and I were at the Mart of Wall last night. While browsing the books section, a Black teenage girl comes around the corner from toys holding a basketball under her arm. She scans the magazines and starts bouncing the basketball.
That echoing thunky-twang of a basketball on tile is headache-inducing and we both cringe. She doesn't get more than four bounces, though, before her mother comes around that corner after her.
Mom (sternly): Haven't I told you not to bounce that ball in the store?
Sucky Brat: Why not?
Mom: Because it's annoying. Don't be a nigger.
Hubby and I look at each other like . Yup, we both heard that correction.
The brat scowled but at least she stopped bouncing the ball.
That echoing thunky-twang of a basketball on tile is headache-inducing and we both cringe. She doesn't get more than four bounces, though, before her mother comes around that corner after her.
Mom (sternly): Haven't I told you not to bounce that ball in the store?
Sucky Brat: Why not?
Mom: Because it's annoying. Don't be a nigger.
Hubby and I look at each other like . Yup, we both heard that correction.
The brat scowled but at least she stopped bouncing the ball.
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