I went to campus yesterday and walked over to the USC Credit Union building to use the ATM. On my way back, two young black men are walking towards me, rapidly, and one asks me “Is there a bus stop that way” he points south, past my shoulder.
“For the 81?” I ask.
The young man’s friend looks a bit shocked.
“No, the 200.” He says.
I point over his shoulder. “There’s a stop across the street, by the Chevron. It’s closer.”
They turn north. I turn west, as I am going to campus. I hear the friend say to my questioner “I can’t believe that old white lady knows where the bus goes.”
Hey, you snot, if you’re reading this: I’m not old.
American interracial age estimations are notoriously inaccurate. It’s a sign, as if another were needed, of how little contact the races really have.