It happens the same way every time…
I’m at a house party with White folk and there’s a knock at the door. The host of the party goes up to the peephole and says something like, “OOOHHH! It’s Dub!” or whatever nickname this breed of fool has. Now enters the modern-day minstrel show; the Black guy who’s identity is contingent upon the entertainment of a White audience. I’m not talking about a Black guy who just wants to party; he’s the guy who responds, “What!? You know I love chicken!” when the host says that there’s wings in the kitchen (I have literally seen it). This is the guy who dances by himself on the living room floor, hitting cliche dance moves when the White folk start blasting In Da Club by 50 Cent.
“Hey Dub! Do that one move!”
Boom, this dude starts walking it out. On command.
As I sit in there, looking at this guy, I begin to think about all the times I’ve been at a frat party or keg party and seen this dude. Maybe his name isn’t always “Dub”, sometimes it’s “C-Note” or whatever, but I’ve seen this nigga more times than I can remember. Then I saw Community recently. The writers must’ve realized a similar phenomenon. Check out “Magnitude”.
Imagine if you were the only other Black person at that party…
Whoever you are, Dub, C-Note, Magnitude, whatever your name is, STOP IT. It’s one thing to be the life of the party, it’s quite another to do what you do. See how your White friends aren’t asking other people to demonstrate a move on the living room floor? I guess Emily and Trevor aren’t entertaining enough.
All of that dancing and shit won’t stop the host and his friend’s from doing you like this when you pass out.
Okay, hold it down dude.
The novelty of your skin tone and culture is not meant for the exploitive amusement of the majority. Well… at least I think so.