What happens when a black girl serves a Skinhead family

So the other day I had the pleasure of serving a family of Skinheads. A very pretty short haired woman, her husband/boyfriend, and their cute little baby boy.

Now... I'm sure a lot of people (or the lot of 3) that are reading this may say, "Well how do you know they were Skinheads? Just because their hair was cut that way doesn't automatically make them part of that group." And you're right... How do I rightly know if they didn't just outright say it? So I'm just going to be an ass and assume that they were skinheads based on the hairdo's, the shirts they were wearing, their matching steel toed boots with the white laces, their reluctance to look me in the eye, the never smiling back at me, and the fact that I live in Bugtussle Mississippi on the border of Tennessee and Arkansas. But hey.... they could have just been keeping their hair short for the cold weather. Yea it's been averaging a good 20 degrees out here lately.... Gotta keep the hair short.

So anyhow... Me being the smiley person I am, I walked up to table 40 and asked how they were doing. You know when you watch the movies and one character is just joking around with another one or whatnot and they're so oblivious to the monster that's standing behind them until the person they're talking to makes that face like "Oh, SHIT!"? Well yea... the wife made that face when I approached the table. I noticed the short hair on her but never assumed off the bat that "oh, shit, they hate black people". Neither one of them looked me in the eye.. Well except for the cute blue eyed cherub that sat next to dad. I waved to him because he smiled so big when he saw me. Until dad sorta forced him down on his butt and told him to keep still. I kept my smile on, though. The baby was too adorable. Too bad he'll hate pretty black women when he gets older, and not by choice.

So I go ahead and continue smiling, and the smile was still genuine, it's just in my blood... I took their order, brought their drinks out, then salads, then the main course, all in a timely manner. No mistakes, never forgot anything... Even brought out extra cocktail sauce for the popcorn shrimp. Brought the ticket out, they gave me a card, I ran it, gave them my GOOD pen... That new Sharpie pen? The one where David Beckham draws hexagons on the golf ball to make it look like a soccer ball? Yea, that one!! That pen is a little on the high priced side.. It's like the Lexus of pens. Anyhow, I cleared the table, told them to have a good day, and to keep warm.. Waved to the blue eyed angel and went on my way.

Came back to grab the checkminder and lo and behold.... not only did they TAKE my good Sharpie D. Beck pen... They tipped me 50 cents on the credit card slip! It wasn't like they were trying to round the bill off to an even number... It wasn't like the bill was 49.50 and they just wanted to make it a nice round 50.00, NO!! It was an obscure amount and they took the time to just add .50 cents.

Look here... Not tipping me is one thing... after the eye contact evasion, and the constant keeping ur kid from jumping into my soft motherly (I do have a 6 yr old so he probably sensed "GOOD MOMMY") bronze skinned arms, I wasn't expecting a tip at all, but to waste your time and MY ink to write ".50" on the damn tip slip? AND TAKE MY GOOD PEN??? All I can say is Nanny, nanny, boo boo... Your sister company the KKK tried to hold a meeting in a hotel after Obama got elected and they didn't let them so they had to freeze out in a field like back in the good old days... Hope you all decide to move to Canada after the inauguration, you petty racist meanies!!! And I hope your son marries an Ebony goddess and create the very thing you've been trying to prevent. MIXED BABIES! And guess what... I'm part WHITE!! Boom!

I wasn't even going to put the tip in, but I said hey, this isn't slavery days, you're gonna PAY ME for serving your ass!! Even if it IS 'fitty cent'.