Black and Some More Black

While out doing what I do best–minding my own business:

Random Guy: Excuse me. You’re beautiful.

Me: (Smiling. Keep talking.) Thank you.

Random Guy: Do you mind if I ask you a question?

Me: (Still smiling. Just don’t say anything stupid.) Well, that depends on the question.

Random Guy: Are you mixed?

Me: (Ding, ding, ding, STUPID question! No  longer smiling. In fact, I can feel my smile turning into a contorted expression of confusion.) Mixed? (Hesitation) Yes. I’m mixed with black and some more black.

Random Guy: (Laughing) Oh, because you look like you could be mixed with Asian.

Me: (Stupid look on my face. I can’t see the look, but I can feel it.) No, sorry. I’m just a regular black girl.

Random Guy: Oh, don’t be sorry. The only reason I asked is because your face and eyes—

Me: (Cutting him off in mid-sentence.) No! I’m not mixed! (Dang! I should have let him finish his sentence so I could tell you what genius thing he said.)

Random Guy: You ain’t got to get mad, Ms. Thang.

Me: Good bye, Sir. (I went from “beautiful” to “Ms. Thang” in less than a minute. That’s got to be a record. Yes, I called him sir. I’m not quick with snappy comebacks.)

Side note: “Are you mixed?” is not a good question to start with. Especially if your name is Carla McCraw, and you’re not mixed and bear no resemblance of being mixed with Asian or anything else. Now this random guy got me questioning what I look like in the eyes of others–apparently, mixed.