Tag Archives: rants

I was having a Southbank lunch with one of my besties the other day when he told me that he had asked a mixed race person where they were from and they had given him one whole look. He didn’t understand it as he meant where do you live but of course they had assumed it was THE QUESTION

So this got me thinking to how The Olympics sold England as this multicultural haven where everyone gets along and sees themselves as British. Idealistic? Perhaps. Realistic? No. Because as we know ignorance doesn’t disappear just because you spent a few million on some fireworks and dancers. I’ve had two Olympic incidents so far.

The Milk Man

I was in my looking Tescos for some milk. OK I was really in there for Haribos and a twix but I was claiming the lactose free milk as a reason for wondering in. I picked up one which had 4^th September on it. A guy, who was on the phone stopped his conversation and started telling me that I should reach the back of the fridge as they were fresher. I thanked him and said that it didn’t matter as this would be done in 3 days.

He followed me to the till. He got off the phone and explained again about the freshness of milk like I really didn’t understand the concept. I repeated that I wasn’t bothered but thanked him for his concern. I edged forwards in the queue. Then he ruined it

Milk Man: Where are you from?

Me: I live down the road

Milk Man: No! Where are you from originally!!

Me: South Africa

Milk Man: [sagely] The crime capital of the world

Me: Yes that’s our claim to fame

Milk Man: [sarcasm wasted] Really?

Me: Well we have to have something to be proud of right?

Milk Man: Nelson Mandela

Me: Tight smile

Milk Man: Did you see Mo Farah win the gold. He’s from Africa.

And finally I hear the words I long for “next please!”

This is the problem with nationalism. Suddenly strangers feel the need to talk to you and ask you personal questions just because of sports. I really wish they wouldn’t

But worse some British people see it as an opportunity to remind you that you’re really not British no matter how loud you cheer. And that their knowledge of places outside of Britain extends to parts of Europe possibly.

So be warned my precious. You will have to put up with a lot of ignorance now that strangers feel the need to engage.

© Chelsea Black

The other night (Tuesday)  I was walking home after a late supper. It was just before midnight and Anita Baker and I were contemplating some high notes on No More Tears. I knew she would reach them and I wouldn’t. Not even in my head.  My one thing about London is that it is relatively safe at night. I can walk without too much stress or worry.

Suddenly out of nowhere a man jumped in front of me. I would say he was mid 40s, Caucasian, overweight but still able to be relatively nimble on his feet judging by the jump and staring at me intently. I quickly assume the woman under attack pose. I raise a hand to my chest and grip my bag more closely. It’s a universal pose that says “What the fuck is going on here?”

Then he starts to move…..into a signature Bolt pose.

I look perplexed. The Olympics are over. Am I supposed to think that every late night walker is still reliving the highlights? And why does he think this is appropriate stranger behaviour?

He strikes his pose for a couple of seconds before mumbing “Bolt! Huh? Yeah!!” a few times.

I get it. I’m black therefore as excited as he is to share his Bolt pose on the street. All I know is that I was scared shitless by a stranger for no good reason.

He walks off patting my shoulder as he passes. I immediately check to see if he somehow lifted my purse. But no this is just a random act of sports related happiness.

I have two thioughts

1)      I wonder if he jumped anyone else that Tuesday night.

2)      I miss black cabs.

Please can we just stop these random acts? I don’t think my heart can take it.

© Chelsea Black