Baby It’s Cold Outside

I usually visit my mother-in-law for Thanksgiving, and know to pack my summer p.j.’s. Why? Because the heat in her house is blasting AND there are four quilts on the guest bed. On the flip side, when she visits me, she probably brings an electric blanket, no matter what time of year, because she would freeze in my house. You see it’s just one of the many differences between black people and white people. Imagine the challenge between myself and my black husband, he wakes up most mornings with my blankets kicked over to his side.

I’m sure you’ve noticed your black friend at work, wearing his gloves and ear muffs around the office. Just be prepared the next time you are invited to his house and wear layers. What do you mean you’ve never been invited to his house? Uh oh, I hate to break it to you. You don’t have a black friend, you work with a friendly black person. There is a difference and the litmus test is whether or not you have been invited to their home. I know, I know, you’ve laughed together at work, even brought each other back a Frosty from Wendy’s. But, if you’ve never been invited to his home (castle, sanctuary), you’re not really his friend. Sorry, maybe he’s just unsure of how to adjust the thermostat for you?

I’m not Cheap, I’m Frugal!

Whatever. I’ve been a spy in the land long enough to know that some black folks are cheap. I’m not revealing a secret, everyone else knows it too. Did you know that wait staff cringe when you bring your family in? Why?A small tip or no tip at all. I have it on good authority in one restaurant that there is a code word for black people, “Canadians.” Sorry Canadians, you always get a bad rap. As in, “Oh no, here comes a table of Canadians.”

Once a good friend of the family took us out to a restaurant to thank us for some recent hospitality. We enjoyed a good meal and on our way out, the manager stopped us and asked if there had been a problem with the meal? Turns out, our friend left no tip. We were so embarrassed we rushed up to the waitress, stuffing money into her hands.

The next day in class, I taught a “lesson” on tipping. Most of my students had no idea that wait staff earn around $2.00 an hour and rely primarily on tips for their income. Or, that a tip is around 15-20% of the ticket.

HOP. (That was me jumping off of my soap box.) Anyway, I love black people, but I almost always overtip to help compensate for any, “Canadians”. (Disclaimer, my black husband is a generous tipper!)

You know about Chittlins, right?

I’ve been on the other side for so long. I’m assuming you know things that you may not. Thanksgiving is quickly approaching. It’s the perfect time to discuss chittlin’s…because that’s when they seem to appear on the menu. Maybe you’ve seen them in the frozen section of the grocery store, in the vicinity of the frozen turkeys. They come in a red bucket or a bag that says, “Chitterlings”. Please, please do not pronounce them like that. It’s almost as embarassing at pronouncing all of the vowels and consonants when you say, “New Orleans”.

This is what I know: chittlins are the intestines of a hog. They can come cleaned or not cleaned. I’m pretty sure you clean them again anyways. I think you can imagine the necessity of this. To clean them you run the faucet water through them, I think. You boil them. I heard my husband say you boil them with some hog mog. You are on your own with that one. There are some questions I just don’t ask.

My husband cooks them in a crock pot outside. Thank you. The smell is not good. They look pretty gross too. I have tasted them…once. They don’t have much of a taste, that must be why the hot sauce is added.

A lot of black people don’t eat them anymore. There is a big divide between the do’s and don’ts that runs much deeper than the health factor. I am not going to attempt to explain the significance of that, which dates back to slavery; a topic that makes white people break out into a cold sweat.