I can't very well be making my only decisions or have an opinion that matters, because there's an us and a them and because of the amount of melanin in my skin, of all things, I'm a them and I always will be, and you need to somehow understand that this is retarded. It's not possible for me to be "rude," because that implies a choice: I'm being "uppity," because I resist the box that I'm in. One sassy black chick cannot tell another sassy black chick that she's being "uppity," without irony, for the same reason that 1 white person using the n-word will always > n sassy black chicks saying honky or cracker, or 1 man saying "bitch" > 1,000,000,000 women saying anything at all. By the same token, if Tara weren't black she'd just find something else. Maybe feminism, or whatever the thing was she happened to be, because if you want to talk about the terrors of intimacy, let's start with Tara. What makes it interesting is that she does have the black thing to use, and has no problem using it, and that's yucky to think about, which is what she's forcing you to do, which is -- for a woman -- being a bitch, and -- for a black person -- being uppity.
How uppity? Slapping the manager right in his fucking face amount of uppity, for quote "pattin' my ass too much." And again: there's your resignation, over and out. Except that Tara's kind of an asshole, and kind of too angry to think logically, and kind of deserves to be that angry, all the time: "I'm a get my babydaddy, who just got out of prison, to come and kick your teeth in." Do you get it yet? The person on the other side of this, talking? Nope. The manager starts shivering and begging for his life or whatever, and she just snorts mirthlessly. "Oh my God, I'm not serious, you pathetic racist. I don't have a baby." They stare at her, uncomprehending; they see the box quite clearly, but not the girl inside. "Damn. I know y'all have to be stupid, but do you have to be that stupid? Shit." She shoves past the Giant Lady: "Fuck this job."