A couple years ago the Extended Family visited my grandma’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. As is custom, kid table (ages 17-23) and adult table subsisted. Allowing illegal aliens to secure driver’s licenses was a prevalent topic at the time. Following a charming, hands-linked, heads-bowed, exuding gratitude prayer, we assembled ourselves properly, grandma overseeing her offspring and family. Everyone gracefully reposed and commenced consuming food. Within minutes the topic transformed to licensing foreigners.
The adult table (kids table’s focus: champagne):
* “Illegals don’t deserve licenses. We have enough legal foreigners who don’t know how to drive as it is.”
* “If they can’t legally live here, they shouldn’t be allowed to legally drive here.”
* “And the problem isn’t just with one kind of foreigner.”
* “Asians go so slow and are such bad drivers because they can’t see. Their eyes are slits.”
* “Well, shit, the blacks are always speeding because they are racing to get away from the cops.”
* Laughter. “Leaving a TV or two behind in their escape down the road, huh?”
* “I’m serious. They’re always running from something. Maybe from a girlfriend pregnant for the third time...”
And the conversation persisted. The following day a cousin informed the family that as a college class assignment she had recorded the dinner conversation and was writing a paper on it. Grandma almost plunged to the ground.
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