From the Melanated Man:

I had an interesting experience this past weekend while out of town in Kansas City accompanying my wife on a recruiting seminar. I gave me a chance to spend some quality time with my two younger brothers, Craig and Arnold, who also happen to live there with their parents.

(Kansas City is not a bad town to tour and visit if you haven’t had the chance. It has a laid back feel to it, which is what I like. I wouldn’t mind living there if it wasn’t too far from my family back in Georgia and Alabama and wasn’t situated in the middle of the Midwest where there are not that many of US to be found en masse. Although overall I enjoyed my trip, there were a couple of occasions where I simply felt out of place and basically a foreigner.)

Which brings me back to my story…

My brothers and I decided to go out for a drink after taking in a movie. So we go to a Buffalo Wild Wings in the Zona Rosa shopping plaza in the northern part of Kansas City. We all approach the bar which where there were three seats available. There were a couple of glasses of beers that were half-drunken set in front them as well. Initially I did not sit down at first because I was not sure if the individuals that were sitting there were going to return The second oldest Craig insisted that we sit.

I’m not that hip to bar rules considering I don’t go out for drinks often if at all, but apparently I’ve been told once you leave the bar that is an indication that you’re done. Well the bartender never got the memo.We waited about FIVE minutes before she decided to acknowledge us, even though she was oddly staring at us behind the bar from the time we arrived. The bartender, who is of course Caucasian/European,  NEVER cleaned off the drinks or took our drink orders.

“Yeahhhh, there are people sitting in those chairs,” she said. “And I have people sitting there, and there,” as she proceeded to point to two other chairs at the bar that were empty for the same amount of time we had arrived. From my and Craig’s perspective, she  had the look and demeanor that she really  had to think about the blatant LIE she was telling us.

Slightly disgusted, we decided to leave. And we headed over to another establishment in the same shopping plaza Bar Louie. We walk in and I had this feeling come over me like I was walking into a Woolworth’s in the middle of Mississippi Pre-Civil Rights Era. Although the place was loud and people we were dancing and carrying on, it seemed for a brief moment everyone there (about 98% of the patrons were Caucasians/Europeans) were covertly staring at the three of us, like we didn’t belong there.

Is there REALLY a threat of three educated BLACK-MELANATED individuals hanging out in public together?

Soooo…we sit down at an empty table and this TIME the waiter acknowledges us right away and appeared to be genuinely nice. For a moment, I felt a slight calm. The feeling I had previously when we walked in receded a little bit. Maybe I am overreacting, I thought.  The experience we had Buffalo Wild Wings had shook me a little so of course I was still apprehensive. He, of the Caucasian flavor as well, promptly took our drink orders with no issues. Everything seemed to be going OK.

And then…he asked us if he could hold a credit card from us. He told us that he had issues of people walking out on the bill in the past and that’s why he asked. Reluctantly Craig gave the waiter his credit card. We both looked at each other as if we had the same thought in mind:

“Did we just get DISCRIMINATED TWICE on the same night?”

Was the waiter telling the truth regarding having patrons walking out on the bill? If so, were the those patrons BLACK? Did he assume since we were BLACK that their was a good chance it would happen again? Is it standard policy for their restaurant to hold a credit card prior to serving their patrons?

That feeling I had when walked in the bar returned TENFOLD.And unfortunately, we stayed and had our drinks. At this point we didn’t want to let ignorance ruin our rare brother moment and we had our drink. Nevertheless it did put a damper on our time together as me and Craig discussed back and forth about the events that transpired starting with the Buffalo Wild Wings situation. The youngest of us Arnold didn’t really have much to say throughout both ordeals, as if he was simply going along with the flow.

I wonder what his thoughts were, what kind of example we set for him.

The next morning me and the wifey went by their house and had breakfast with Craig and his parents. Arnold had to go to work that morning so we never got to hear his views on the night before. According to the parents, the consensus was that we should have reported the incident to management and to be more mindful of the sacrifices that were made so we can enjoy the same establishments and benefits as our “white” counterparts without any foolishness occurring. My wife (who loves to speak her mind when she feels a hint of being snubbed) agreed with them for the most part.

Craig and I pretty much said the same thing: we didn’t have the energy to fight or complain about being possibly discriminated against when ultimately it’s not OUR establishment.

And of course there was an obvious back and forth for the next 45 minutes to an hour. We were on two opposite ends of the spectrum.

 

Should we even bother fighting “discrimination and racism?”

 

My personal opinion…

That night I didn’t have the energy. Honestly, even if I did, I wouldn’t want to. When it boils down to it, this SYSTEM (THIS MATRIX!) was not made for my benefit, or those who look like me.

Nevermind the obvious POISON that they sell at Buffalo Wild Wings and Bar Louie with not only the  alcohol, but the  DEATH FOOD that does you no good in the first place. Not to mention the countless number of flat screens they have that completely DUMB DOWN YOUR BRAIN by televising CORPORATE-RULED SPORTS to put you to sleep.

Hey if we really had our priorities in check, we wouldn’t be frequenting establishments that kill us in many ways than one.But not only do we want to be accepted in these establishments, we try to recreate them ourselves. The  only difference is the owners and patrons have BLACK FACES…

…but still don’t know a GODDAMN thing about themselves.

“Racism and Discrimination” is a multi-faceted creation by the powers-that-be, the elites, Massa to pull you into their SICK GAME. It is a very complex and tricky one; people are still being played to THIS DAY.

Where there is RACE, DISCRIMINATION is the OBVIOUS OUTCOME!

(FYI, RACE DOES NOT EXIST! MELANIN EXISTS! That’s how those in power really view the many different peoples of the planet, based on MELANIN CONTENT! We need to start applying that same tactic as well in ALL FACETS of OUR lives.)

By creating *LABELS (a future post that is LONG overdue)  for people, it gives those in power the ability to easily identify who they wish to DISCRIMINATE against within their MATRIX. And once that occurs, of course the 99% will began to complain regarding the DISCRIMINATION.

The more they complain and beg for equal rights, to be accepted and to assimilate within the MATRIX, the more obvious it is to those in power that they don’t know anything about themselves.

“They’re sheep, easy pickings for us!”

If you actually knew the MATRIX you so desperately want to integrate into, you would probably prefer to kill yourself instead…and I hate to say that, but that’s how destructive it is.

That’s my viewpoint on the situation.

 

Really think about what’s going on. AS BLACK-MELANATED PEOPLE we want to be treated fairly, we want to be considered in the conversation. But are we really begging for acceptance? Why do we have to keep fighting the same battles over and over and over AGAIN?

Maybe it’s time to tell Massa,” FUCK YOU! We’re going to do our OWN thing!”

Whenever we decide to learn about OURSELVES first, then maybe someday that will occur.

Until then…I’ll keep doing what I’m doing to make that happen!

 

 

Peace and Love to my melanated family,

The Melanated Man

 

*Future Post

 

P.S. To my brother Arnold (lol!), I hope you learned something from our experience(s) the other night. I’m sure you did. Feel free to hit me up and we can talk about it, mane!