“Dog fighting used to be a noble sport, until those niggers got involved.”

“What?!”

“Well, you know, it’s kind of sad to see two dogs going at each other like that, but the whole time their tails are wagging. They like it. That is, until the blacks took it over and now it’s just disgusting”

Sometimes I hate America. I landed in Columbus Ohio yesterday and then I drove my rented Malibu two hours through the uninhabited lands that lay to the southeast. For that solitary couple of hours without radio reception, as I neared the West Virginia border, I thought this state might be America last hope. The landscape was hilly and completely wooded. A heavy mist filled the valleys as the orange glow of the sunset reflected off the green mountaintops. It looked like a backdrop for The Last of the Mohicans. It was beautiful. With the rush of wind in my hair and the white noise of radio static in my ear, I though, “I love America.”

Today, after a long day of work, I retreated to the only tavern within stumbling distance of the Comfort Inn I was staying at. The bar was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night. The ball game was on the TV and it looked like it would be a fun night away from home. The clientele was welcoming to a guy wearing a DARE t-shirt. The younger guys wore their baseball caps backwards like a belated tribute to Fred Durst, and the older guys sported their fading tattoos. I was in a really good mood. Everything was going great until the idiot on Fox Sport Center made a reference to Michael Vic.

“Fucking nigger.”

The middle-aged guy on the barstool next to me muttered to me for the first time. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me, so I turned away from the tub and looked at him.

“Huh?”

“Dog fighting used to be a noble sport, until those niggers got involved.”

I was in a state incomprehensive shock. It was like I was watching the Miss Teen USA pageant. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj3iNxZ8Dww) Words were coming out of his mouth, but they didn’t make any sense. The more he tried to explain himself, the more I just wanted him to die. I think he understood this, because he moved to the other side of the bar and kept to himself for a while.

I was still a little fired up when a black guy in a Nike jersey walked in and sat at my corner of the bar. The bartender walked by our end of the bar a couple of times and the black guy tried to flag him down to no avail. I took a heroic chug and slammed my empty mug down. The bartender walked over, leaned over the bar and looked me in the eye.

“Another one chief?”

I motioned with my thumb to the black guy. “Yeah, and I think he needs a beer too.”

“Ahh, don’t worry about him.”

The bartender walked away, and the black guy muttered “what the fuck” and stormed off. Before he was out the door, a guy who looked like the redneck version of Jeff Gordon mumbled, “Thank god.”

When the bartender brought me my drink, I slid my credit card at him, asked for my tab, pounded my beer before he came back, and left without tipping.

I am the first guy to tell you that affirmative action is bullshit. I think that any black person who thinks I owe them “reparations” for things that took place before any of my ancestors left Europe is a dumbdick. And I believe that part of the reason why black people make less then white people, per capita, is because too many of them aspire to be rappers instead of engineers.

What really pisses me off is that any time I say the things that I just did in the last paragraph, people associate me with the very people who made me so mad tonight that I had to leave the bar before I got drunk.

Sometimes I hate America.