Okay. Someone please help me explain this.

So last night was the big Coro fundraiser - fabulous turnout, fabulous panelists, fabulous drinks - fabulous everything.

But there was something that sort of set me off last evening and it's not the first time that it's happened.

See, one of our journal assignments in Coro was to describe a time that we once felt discriminated against. This was somewhat difficult because no one has ever said outright - "I don't like you because you're brown." So I had to do some real thinking about a time that I might have felt discriminated against. And I realized something that happens to me sometimes.

Picture it: WalMart, Duane Reade, Hallmark store. Any given time in my life. I'm strolling through the aisles, looking for that perfect birthday card. I'm wearing a heavy winter jacket and scarf, browsing through the cards, laughing sometimes, just perusing. Like you do.

And I'll continue that way, up and down the aisles, looking at their wares, trying to choose the perfect gift - when suddenly some older white person stops to ask if I work there. Okay, I don't mean to sound like it's always older white people...oh wait. Yes I do. 'Cause that's the only way this scenario works. Let me paint the scene for you:

Setting: a drug store. Me? I'm just walking around. Wander, wander, wander. Browse, browse, browse. Minding my own business when a white person - or WP saunters up with a panic-stricken-urgent look on their face and clears their throat.

WP: Excuse me?

(browse, browse, browse. I don't notice. Until they grab my shoulder)

ME: (turn around, blank look on face) Yeah?

WP: Do you work here?

Me: Um, nope.

WP: Oh. You don't work here?

Me (inside voice): Did I stutter? What did I just tell you? (Outside voice) No.

WP: (hands go immediately to sides as if gravity suddenly strikes) Well, damn. (arms suddenly go back up) What am I going to do? Have you seen anyone that works here?
Me: (inside voice) Please go away and leave me the hell alone. It would be better if you didn't waste my time while you're having a panic attack. (outside voice) Sorry.

Let's examine this exchange. Why in the world would someone think that I work there? Hmmm. I described what I was wearing. Why on earth would someone working there wear a winter coat and scarf? Maybe they were cold you say? Okay. That I'll buy. But now hang on a second. In Hallmark, I wasn't wearing one of those blue smocks. At WalMart, I didn't have on one of those blue polos that clearly read "Walmart", nor was I wearing one of those obnoxious blue smocks. Duane Reade is the same way. Nope, I was just a customer coming in to shop during winter.

So why would someone, let's presumably make them educated, since they seemed nice and smelled nice (yes, this is important criteria), assume that I worked there? What other evidence is there? Hmmm.

Ah, could it be because I am brown?

Now don't get me wrong. I don't presume to say that these people are racist, discriminatory - but given the evidence, why else would anyone assume that I worked there?

Okay. Haven't convinced you? Let me relay a story to you from last night.

I'm in the bathroom of Eugene's. For those of you who have never been there - it's a great club on West 24th Street. Now this is a nice lounge. And if you're from NYC, you know what I'm talking about. Big comfy couches, VIP room, long bar, trendy furniture - and a bathroom attendant in a cool looking bathroom. If you've never experienced the bathroom attendant, come to NYC and I'll show you what I mean. Shee-shee-pee-pee-doo-doo places have them. It's a sure-fire sign that you're in a nice place.

So I'm in the bathroom, minding my own business, chatting amicably with some of the girls in the bathroom whom I happened to know. There were about six of us in the bathroom at the time and because of that, the bathroom attendant was sort of busy and I managed to get to a sink and get my own soap without assistance. While the bathroom attendants are nice people and I always tip them, I didn't have my wallet on me, so I was somewhat happy to go unnoticed at another sink. I did, however, say thank you to the nice bathroom attendant as I was walking past her to the door. (And this doesn't make a difference now, but yes, she happened to be a woman of color) Somehow, as I was walking, I missed the trash can to throw my paper towel away. So I sort of stopped and leaned back to find it and as I righted myself, an older white woman with a fur coat on (if you're from NYC, you know the type), hands me a dollar and says "Thank you very much."

Okay. I'm a bit thrown off. Yes, I have on a black suit and the bathroom attendant is wearing a tuxedo-looking thing (black vest, white shirt, black bow tie). I wasn't the only one in the room wearing a black suit (it's NYC for chrissakes). So I sort of stop dead in my tracks, and look at my hand, which she had slipped the dollar into. I think i said, "Oh."

At which point I promptly punched her in the neck.

Kidding. Don't I wish. I can already see it. WHAM! "Oops! I must have mistaken you for Hitler...bitch."

No, instead, I took the money from her and walked over to the bathroom attendant and put the money in the basket on the sink. I smiled and said, "Here you go." The attendant smiled at me and said, "Thanks." I said, "Have a great night." To which, the furry old white woman went up to the bathroom attendant and said, "Thank you very much." I was trying to get past the two of them and had made it to the door only to realize that the white woman was already at the door holding it open. The fur monster put her hand on my shoulder and had an apologetic look on her face and said, "Thank you very much." She then proceeded to walk out of the door in front of me and sort of held the door open.

And I'm thinking, "Buhscuse me? Oh no you didn't."

That's it. No, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Not even an "oops." The point is, no "I'm sorry for confusing the two people of color in the bathroom."

WHAT IN THE SAMHELL IS THAT??!!!

Can you understand my angst? I mean, are you kidding me? If you did that accidentally to someone (and any of you reading, I seriously hope you wouldn't make that mistake) wouldn't you say that you were sorry? Here's a hint: not all people of color work for the establishment you happen to be in. In fact, I think that anyone should be just as offended as I am about this sort of thing. Who the hell do you think you are? Pay some goddammned attention! Did you miss the Civil Rights Movement or were you too busy trying to understand what exactly the Emancipation Proclamation was saying? And for crying out loud, you live in NEW YORK CITY, easily one of the most international cities in the world. Already I have problems trying to explain to people that I'm Filipino and hell if they know where the Philippines is. I usually get people asking if I'm Samoan, Hawaiian, Spanish, and Carribean. Let me remind all of the readers that Filipinos are the second largest group of Asian Americans in the USA. And no matter where I am - be it in NYC, Chestertown, MD, or Syracuse, NY, I get white people asking me all the time what aisle something is in.

Someone please tell me if I'm delusional. But I want you to think about it first. People wonder why I sing that Garret Morris SNL song at times...and if you don't know the song, hellfire on you. Or just email me, I'll be happy to relay the song. Or call me, I'll sing it for you. It's just classic.

Lord knows I was singing it last night when I left the bathroom.