Today at the health club, the woman dressing beside me saw the book I was dropped beside my gym bag and said, "Well, that's weird. That's a weird book.""I think it's funny," said I.
"Lots of black women aren't bitter, you know."
"That's not what it's about. It's a pun based on that phrase ...."
"What does that have to do black women?"
"Nothing! That's what I'm trying to explain to you."
Why am I naked, explaining my literature choices to a woman whose name I don't even know? Why does she care what I'm reading? And besides, if she bothered to read the cover before interrogating me, she would see that it says:
Bitter is the New Black
Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office
Today's encounter just reinforces my long-held theory that the most annoying people in North America reconnoiter at my local Bally's.
