Interracial Dating (a.k.a. “Swirling”)

“Humph!” my wife said.

“Humph!” my daughter replied.

Whaaaaat? A double “Humph!”???

Hoo, boy.

An explanation is in order, I suppose. We were in a restaurant, enjoying two of our favorite activities: eating, and people-watching. Restaurants are a good place for that, you know. Nothing better than a medium-rare steak with all the trimmings, and an idiot three tables over who can’t hold his liquor, who insists that Elvis was the greatest singer of all time, and attempts to give the entire restaurant a rendition of the King’s Greatest Hits.

Let me be careful here. This story might end up in my sister’s blog. .

Check it out, if you like to read about “the world of interracial dating.”

Me? I’m “The Anti-Swirl.” I don’t play that schit.

White gal, stay in your double-wide, and leave the brothers alone!

Brothers, stop chasing them dirtyfoots, like they’re some kind of trophy! Plenty of fine, educated fun-to-be-with Black women to chose from!

Yes, there is one in every family, and I proudly hold the Anti-Swirl Banner, and I hold it high. (Rustle…rustle…flap!)


Somebody has to keep it real around here, and it might as well be moi.

Where was I?

Oh, yes, a “Double Humph,” the semi-rare occasion where my wife and my daughter agree on something, the “something” being dependent on who “Humphs!” first.

You rookie husband/fathers really need to read my book, What Every Man Needs to Know About the Females Who Infest His House, along with my companion book Keeping the Females Who Infest Your House In Check. For the low, low price of only $159.95, It’s a must-read for any husband/father.

Anyway, my wife had “humphed” first, so I knew there was Another Female involved, one who had an obvious physical defect, such as a tiny waistline or wide hips, or an onion that could make a grown man cry. But, my daughter had humphed almost simultaneously, so that had to mean that there was a fashion faux pas of some kind taking place as well.

Wow! Something good to go with my oysters on the half-shell! Along with the horseradish and green hot sauce, of course…


Whaddya mean, ewwww!?? What kind of readers I got in here, anyway?

Don’t look at me funny, just because I like raw oysters. There’s a name for people like you!

Anyway, I looked around, to see just who had caused such a ruckus at my table. Nothing much, just a tall, skinny White guy with a rather anxious expression on his face, walking real fast toward the tables behind us. But then, I saw her, and instantly, I understood…

Cue theme music, shift to slow motion…

“…she’s a ba-rrickk…hawwwssse! Yeah, she mighty-mi-taaay, just lettin’ it all hang out…”

Cut music, back to normal speed…

After all that, a description is in order. A Black woman had walked in behind the skinny White guy, and, uh, how should I say this?

Super Soul Sister here was…er…blessed.

Blessed and highly favored.


Highly favored….

About 44DD favored. You feel me? Yes, Lawd!

And she was not ashamed to let the world know how blessed she was, as a matter of fact, she was, as the song said, “lettin’ it all hang out.”

My goodness. A set of healthy twins. Or puppies.

Great Dane puppies.

St. Bernards.

Whatever. Call ‘em what you like, they was nice!

As she passed by, one of them puppies winked at me, but, with the “Humphs!” still ringing in my ear, and the icy Daddy-don’t-you-dare! look I was getting from my daughter, and the wink-back-I-dare-you! look coming from the ICBM missile launch silo to my immediate right, well, I figured it wasn’t a good idea to wink back.

I may be stupid, but I aint crazy.

I calmly sipped my herbal tea, and went to Expression # 92B—Puzzled Confusion, and said the word every husband should have ready in his arsenal, “What?”

I fully expected the standard “Don’t ‘what?’ me!” but not this time. Skinny White Guy saved the day by doing something nobody at our table, and, probably the restaurant, expected.

He held the chair for Super Soul Sister, and waited for her……

…to be continued….


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