The first of these coontacts came on Thursday. I was leaving work with another doctor and a very good friend of mine Paul, who is from Romania his family came here the year we started high school and we've been nearly inseparable ever since and when we were in college he taught me Romanian. We were in the parking lot, I had to give him a ride home since his car was in for repairs, and this spindly nigger buck no older than 20 walked up to us. "'Scuse me, ah you doctahs?" it asked. We said yes, and the buck tried to hand us these crumpled pieces of paper and said "dis beez mah rezoomay, I wants ta be a doctah, nomesain?" So Paul and I looked at each other and said a few words in Romanian, knowing the nigger wouldn't understand, about how we should have a bit of fun with the shitskin. We took the resume, it was just short of a page long with only one previous job at a supermarket, where it worked for four months. We let on for a while and asked it what speciality it want wanted to do, big surprise, it babbled what sounded like gynaecology. We asked why it wanted to be a doctor. It wanted to "make lotsa green". This went on for a while and we really got its hopes up until Paul announced it would never be a doctor. The niggers face went completely straight and it asked why, to which Paul responded patients have a problem with niggers being around them, seeing as they make them more ill. Instant Cat 5 chimpout. "Dis boosheeet beez rayciss. I wants ta be a doctah and habs tons a munnee and a mursdees (He said that, I assume he meant Mercedes) but cuz I beez black yt beez keepin' me down." It went on like this for a few minutes and he mumbled something about Jesse Jackscoon and the NAACP or something, we just got into my car and left him to storm out of the parking lot. It pulled up in its hooptie beside us at a red light. Being friendly as we are, we waved. It was nice to see the filthy moon cricket huff and puff in its measly excuse for a car.
The second was a collective coontact rather than a personal one. Yesterday was my sister-in-law's 40th birthday and to celebrate we (family and close friends) began with dinner at her favourite restaurant. This restaurant is a gourmet place; very fine dining. Also, very opposed to niggers being there. As we were having dinner and toasting to the next 40 years this unmistakable screech came from the entrance. We looked over and the poor maître d' was faced with a buck, a sow and four niglets. All dressed to the nines in their finest bakkaball jerseys and sweatpants. Not only did they not have a reservatiom but they were obviously violating the restaurant's very strict dress code, but also violating the 'no niggers' rule, which in itself in an egregious infringement. The maître d' explained why they would not be allowed to eat there and of course a chimpout ensued. Mammy and what might be daddy going on about 'raycizzumz' and whatever else, completely ruining the atmosphere for the diners. hey left eventually but the experience did ruin several minutes of out festivities. The rest of the dinner and party afterwards went off perfectly though.