Just a Plain Old White Chick
All she had wanted was an oil change.
She went to the gas station on a recommendation from a friend. "It's the cheapest one you're going to find." Alright, then that's where she was going. When she got there, she handed the man her keys and took a seat next to the slurpee machine (At $13, guess you get what you pay for).
After about 15 minutes the man came and asked her to come to the garage with him. He pointed out that her fluids needed topping off and he'd be happy to take care of it for a few extra dollars. She knew she was getting ripped off, but laziness can sometimes be worth the money. "Go for it," she said.
She paid for the service and walked back around to reclaim her car. The same man was standing there and looked like he wanted to say something.
"Do you speak Spanish?"
"Nope," she answered, "But I get that question all of the time."
He insisted that she looked Puerto Rican (he appeared to be so himself). She explained that she was "just a plain old white chick." Russian Jew to be exact (by heritage), but caucasian nonetheless.
The interrogation continued with the following call and response:
"Are you married?" - "No."
"Do you have a boyfriend?" - "No."
"Really?" - "Really."
"Can I have your number?" - (look of amusement) "No."
...he had already gotten her warmed up and into the habit of saying no.
Of course, with hindsight being 20/20, she began to ruminate later on.
"Plain old white chick?" What does that mean? Lately she had been asked so often where she was from. Puerto Rico, Cuba, Mexico, Spain, Italy, Greece, Egypt and very occasionally "Oh, you're a Jew." What the hell did it matter? Why did she feel like apologizing for being white? Why was that such a dissapointment?
Next time (and there was no doubt that there would be a next time) she wasn't apologizing for anything.