this morning #1147.

this morning, i’d unwittingly become an unwilling participant in his silly game of immigrant identification. he was all “that one right there,” like some sort of psycho ethnic psychic trying to pick out the person that’d win him a prize. i just nodded my head. said nothing. didn’t want to rile him up more than he was already riled up. i nervously sipped my tea as he elaborated on the fate of our country. a group of dudes in the corner were staring straight at him. daggers. i tried to shift the subject before he got us both beat up. in the heat of the moment though, all he heard was the sound of his own voice. i had no choice. it was up to me to save us. i reared back. smacked him clear across the cheek.