Dear Irby and Ian,
My boyfriend is white, and I'm...not. He wants me to meet his parents, but I'm really scared they won't like me (he comes from a very different type of area). What is a black girl to do? I'm worried I'm not good enough and am terrified to meet them! How should I handle a potentially awkward racial situation?
irby's salty black ass: this tea party/militia/birther/arizona/anchor baby shit is proving what the realists among us already fucking knew: racism isn't dead, it was just hiding in upstate michigan. white people are still terrified of black people, even though we're so busy shooting at each other we couldn't possibly be bothered to disrupt their polo matches or country club luncheons with our LOUD TALKING and welfare swindling and aggressive rap music. so i'm not sure what you're so worried about. but the inherent problem with a question like this is that 1 it's apparent that you hate yourself a little bit and 2 you obviously don't know enough raggedy fucking white people.
do you have mtv? because all you need to do is sit through an episode of "teen mom's" cayleeeeeeee or destineeeeeeeeeeeeee smoking a newport while screeching into her iphone outside the trailer about court dates and car payments and your fears of not being good enough for these people will GODDAMNED EVAPORATE. i mean, seriously, have you never before watched "to catch a predator?" ain't no tar babies on that shit trying to put their dicks in little kids. forget harriet tubman, teach little brown children about that shit. i've got a documentary on the people of appalachia that i can send you, too, and GUARANTEED you'll never be afraid that a white person would judge you harshly EVER AGAIN.
i'm serious. five minutes watching these toothless hillbilly motherfuckers put mountain dew in baby bottles while butchering the english language will have you swollen with pride and humming "lift every voice and sing" under your breath for a goddamned month. white people in major metropolitan areas keep it pretty well together, but those motherfuckers on the fringe are A GODDAMNED MESS. and i assume that's what you're referring to when you say "he comes from a different type of area." because the alternative is that YOUR ASS is country and he's from a posh suburb, and everyone already knows that rich white people are polite to a fault and will only talk shit under their breath after you've bid them goodnight and the maid is locked safely in her specially-constructed outdoor bathroom.
when sarah and i were in nebraska a few years ago i was fucking SHOCKED; little white kids in dirty clothes and bare feet standing on the side of the road eating mayonnaise sandwiches and holding pictures of aborted fetuses and yelling at us to "go back to africa." white power, indeed. this young boy whom i am almost 100% positive answered to a biblical name called us a couple of "man-looking dyke niggers" in a gas station in elkhorn. my immediate reaction was to laugh in disbelief, because i couldn't believe this little grapes of wrath motherfucker's goddamned audacity. i was wearing easily the most feminine fucking outfit in my closet, this long-ass, vagina-airing caftan and a bunch of girly nuvaring bracelets. who the fuck was he calling a MAN?! i suppose i was looking pretty niggerish, what with my birkenstock sandals and the eddie bauer duffel bag i was using as a suitcase, and i understand how the subaru we were road-tripping in might warrant a lesbian catcall or three, but how on earth could i take a person seriously who was wearing OVERALLS AS REAL CLOTHES WITH NO SHIRT UNDERNEATH?
that's one of the reasons i don't understand why black people get so bent out of shape over racism that isn't institutionalized. imma be mad because some child destined to die in a coal mine in ten years called me a fucking nigger? NOT EVER. if there was even the slightest danger that i might be seeking employment from that motherfucker one day, my poor little black heart might break into a million pieces. i get mad when african-american neighborhoods don't have decent grocery stores and black men serve lifetimes in prison for half an ounce of crack cocaine, not when some tobacco-chewing manchild wearing shoes my tax dollars paid for gives me a once-over. and sure, maybe he was checking my teeth and gauging my hip width to figure out how much i would go for in the modern-day slave trade, and that's just fine so long as that constitution his libertarian ass loves so fucking much still says my 3/5 human ass is STILL FREE. unless he's going to put a shotgun to my head or make my paychecks out to "nigger irby," i'm not really worried what he thinks about my big ol' lips and fried chicken addiction. besides, sarah ISN'T EVEN BLACK. if something had really gone down i could've jumped in the trunk while she drove us back to safety.
so maybe the real issue is that you need to work on your personality. or your confidence. because if his family is the type who would drag you behind a truck, would he really take your ass to meet them? i am never concerned that someone won't like me, regardless of skin color, because i am charming and hilarious and awesome. are you smart? do you have decent comedic timing? read a couple magazines or something topical online so you have something to talk about that won't make you sound retarded. and avoid talking about god, guns, or the GOP. most white people avoid talking about anything controversial with a negro anyway, either because they assume we've all got some latent militance or we're too dumb to intelligently converse (or CONVERSATE, depending on how black you are), so chances are all you're going to have to talk about is what you watch on television or whitney houston.
come on, what's the worst thing that could happen? dad refuses to speak to you, mom is offended that you didn't ask for a second steaming helping of spam and cheetos casserole, and you cut your leg on the stuffed raccoon carcass that sits in the middle of the coffee table? so what, big deal. just tell boyfriend that he owes you a nice dinner and control of the remote for a couple weeks. because television solves everything, even racism.
goddamn it, are white men into curvy black women yet? or has that uptick in the appreciation of a big, black ass the movie "precious" created already worn off? i need to get me one of them, for reals. what? i grew up in the suburbs! i know how to talk the talk! i need to be around a y-chromosome with a decent credit score for a change, shit. one who wasn't in the hot lunch program and can tell me what it's like growing up with a full-time father in the home. but i can only fuck with a city one, as i need someone who isn't going to sass me and try to disprove everything i fucking say. i'm tired of this in your face blacktalk. bring on the liberal guilt.