Dignified Black People…and Others.

Please watch this clip before you read this blog.


If you are culturally sensitive and/or easily offended, I suggest you sit this one out.


That is a sigh of frustration, anger and embarrassment.

…but I’m getting ahead of myself.

My evening wasn’t supposed to be anything spectacular. I wasn’t seeking fireworks. I had all intentions on having a boring night, at home, drowning in stats homework. I was supposed to be on the verge of tears trying to figure out the z-value of some proportion probability of expected value something or other…whatever, I don’t effin know.<– FAIL!

Instead, I got hit up by a few friends I haven't seen in a while to go to Joe's Crab Shack. Now, quite frankly, I don't like or eat seafood, but they could have asked me to go to the bottom of the ocean, and I would have been down, so long as that meant no stats (smh, terrible, I know).

So we all piled into the car and headed down 295 into Delaware to "Eat at Joe's!"

As we made our way down the road, I sat in the back texting and listening to my iPod, in my own little world, emerging only to make random inappropriate comments when the mood so struck me to do so. After about 25mins, we arrive at Joe's and I am pleasantly surprised.

The restaurant was very kitschy, but not in an annoying way; in a more so deliberate, we-meant-to-do-that kind of way. Much of the little sayings on the walls and t-shirts were aimed at the dirty minds of many people and how that could easily be intertwined with the word 'crabs' [Insert "That's what she said" joke here].

We approach the hostess station and she takes my friend's name and directs us to go sit at the bar while we wait for our table. Immediately, well really once I turned my iPod off, I noticed that they are playing HORRIBLE 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's soft rock, soul, disco, and r&b…

Kill. Me. Now.

As a means by which to dull the effect of the horrible music, I order a drink. I got myself a wonderful Southern Spiked Tea (yea, I know…I totally still had stats homework to do. ::Kanye shrug:: Trust me; my grade can't get any worse!) The drink tasted like fresh brewed iced tea with the perfect amount of lemon!

Oh. Muh. Gawd.


We sat and chatted at the bar for about 15-20 mins until we hear my friend's name come across the PA system, "Friend, party of 5, stop your gabbin' and get to crabbin'!" Or something as equally terrible and cheesy as that. I can't remember, but you get the point.

We get to our table, sit down and our waitress "Echo" (Pause: Yes, that was her name! ECHO! Smh…CITFO! Done.) I would describe her as being "hood proper". Basically, I knew she was uncomfortable pronouncing all of the syllables in each word because of the exaggerated way she moved her mouth. To give you a mental picture, it was the exact equivalent of spraying perfume/body spray in your mouth by accident. Yea. To her credit though, she was really nice. Echo gave us her welcome shpeel and walked away and gave us time to maul over the menu.

The menu.

Ha! Best joke I've seen in a while.

As I said be for I don't like or eat seafood, so my choices were crazy vast. Chicken. 1 of 2 ways: Grilled or breaded.


I went with the grilled chicken sandwich and everyone else went with some varied combination of crab and shrimp.

Once we put in our orders, we went back to catching up with each other, making fun of each other (or really just one particular person), and enjoying our drinks.

Then the mood in the restaurant shifted.

There was a moment. What is can only be categorized as a "N***a Moment,"** caused by an all black biker gang, group, posse…WTFE…IDFK! A mess is what I would consider it!

There was this, this, loud, uproarious, OFFENSIVE, offensive-ness!!! The biker “gang” started laughing, shouting, jumping, hooting and hollering like a bunch of (excuse the expression, but I’m painting a picture here) park apes!!

I’m irritated.

They were justa cacklin’, yelling and acting a damn fool without any regard for the rest of us, who also paid good money to enjoy ourselves.

I was, as well as my friends, embarrassed.

I didn’t matter that we were seated 4 tables away. It didn’t matter that we didn’t know them from Adam or from a can of spray paint in the paint department of Home Depot. No, that had no bearing on the fact that I was still immensely embarrassed.

I was now cowering in my seat, trying to seem less black.

And then…then it got worse.

The “N***a Moment” expanded into a phase: They requested the ‘Cupid Shuffle!’


You have GOT to be kidding me.

Why?! Why a goddamned line dance?!?! Why!?!

Seriously!?! Like, seriously…?

The only thing that would have made that situation worse is if they had instead requested ‘The Electric Slide.’ <– Yea even as I'm writing this, I'm wincing at the fact that the 'Cupid Shuffle' happened and 'The Electric Slide' almost could have! (F.Y.I.- Echo was also dancing with them…{Side eye}).

I'm LIVID now because a group of about 10-15, 35+ aged so-called "adults" are dancing to the 'Cupid Shuffle' in the middle of Joe's Crab Shack! IN FRONT OF WHITE PEOPLE!!<– Huge, NO-NO!! (see the clip at the beginning of this post). It was a certified "Bojangles" moment, that easily set the race back 70+ years!!


I can't! I just can't! This is no way– I just can't!

There are, and have been, very, very few times in my life that I have actually been ashamed to be black, and I'll tell you, this is DEFINITELY one of them! There isn't enough Barack and Michelle in this world to fix that moment.

And because getting up and dancing like a bunch of idiots wasn't enough, they rushed over to a random table of people, like a crazed flash mob, and began singing "Happy Birthday." But not the normal rendition of "Happy Birthday," noooooo, they had to break out the Stevie Wonder version. With extras!

Extra loud.

Extra out of key.

And super extra out of sync.

Which was, again, all in front of the white people. Who, by the way, just started clapping loudly when the bikers attempted to go into a second verse/chorus.

Thank you, God!

Thank you, White People!

At this point my friends and I are thoroughly shocked, taken aback, appalled, embarrassed and ashamed; AND OUR FOOD HADN'T EVEN GOTTEN TO THE TABLE YET!!

So. Done.

THEY all filed back to their table, where THEY continued to be rowdy and inconsiderate for another 10-15mins.

Then it got eerily quiet.

IDK if someone said something to management or if THEY finally took the hint from all the dirty looks the other patrons, especially the black ones who were "too U to be D"*, were giving them and THEY moved their “negro spiritual” to the outside deck. Once THEY were gone, the dinning room was immediately 5 decibels quieter and 100 times more relaxed! The difference was amazing!

As soon as I noticed they were gone, and I could hear myself think again, I began writing this blog down on paper so I wouldn’t miss or forget one teeny, tiny detail of this boorish incident. Not to lose a single piece of humiliation and, quite frankly, shame that came with having stood witness to this ridiculous scene.

Now some of you may say (or think) that these people were just out having a good time, minding their own business, not bothering (Yea…ok.) anyone, and I’m just blowing this out of proportion.

That could be true.

Except for the fact that I’m not.

This is the buffoonery that needs to be stopped! It’s stuff like this, that makes blacks the punchline in racial jokes, to which there is no rebut. It’s shit like this that make the self-hating things that Uncle Ruckus says, coupled with the dauntingly accurate social commentary of “The Boondocks,” true!

While in the midst of this, this-ness, I was texting my mentor the blow by blow as it unfolded. I asked her what could I possibly do, as a leader of tomorrow, to combat against this purposefully asinine behavior?

Her response was,” Succeed, so that we can vanquish the enemy.”




smh…Amen…(Grabs statistics text book and a shield).

Speak your mind….

**Note: This was a term that was invented by the creators of the Adult Swim show “The Boondocks.” To get the full context of the term, refer to Season 1, Episode 4.

*Note: The phrase “too U to be D” stands for “too uppity to be down.” Simply meaning that your love for Starbucks, NPR and multisyllabic words will most likely get you pinned as being “uppity” and therefore you automatically DO NOT qualify as being “down” or “in” or whatever. Sorry.

About themeanblackgirl

My name says it all!
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