Thankful, But Still Pissed

When I think of things that I'm thankful for this year, I don't have far to reach. The first one would be that my dad is recovering so well from the traumatic brain injury that he sustained in July. And actually, everything after that is a distant second.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and, as I usually do, I spent it with my in-laws. Now, don't you just hate it when you sit down to have a nice family dinner and someone starts telling racist Asian jokes and doesn't stop for a really long time? Yeah, I hate that, too. We got a little lost and arrived somewhat late, so everyone was seated by the time we got there. In other words, we didn't sneak in - it was a loud and warm "hello!" when we walked in. The mood was jovial, with heartfelt toasts and hearty laughs, and then one of their longtime family friends launched into his bottomless bag of Asian jokes. I'm convinced that he is so stupid that what happened was that he took one look at my little Asian face and subliminally thought, "Oh, that's right, I've got some chinky jokes" and then just ran his ignorant fat motor mouth. I swear, I was not two bites into my meal when he started. I immediately turned to my husband, who was deep in conversation with his cousin, and said, "Are you hearing this?" And as this jerk went on and on about how Asians can't drive and blah blah blah, I was just doing a running commentary to my husband about how ridiculous this was. I suppose the only good news was that he wasn't calling us "Orientals."

I'm fairly sure that under any other circumstance I would have said something to this guy. Oh, it probably would have been witty, but it would have been right to the point. It would have been something like, "When racist open mic night is over, please call me, and I will come back to the table." But I didn't say anything, and neither did anyone else. We just let it pass. Thankfully, my husband's uncle had a list of back "knock-knock" equivalent jokes from Yahoo that he was dying to tell.

After dinner, I found that I was really angry with myself for not saying anything. I'm an adult and I have a good, oh, 500 I.Q. points on this guy. The fact that he is stupid, or that he is from another generation, or that any-other-excuse-that-I've-heard-my-entire-life-for-racism is NO LONGER AN EXCUSE. I mean, I suppose that he has the freedom to tell any racist joke he wants, as long as he wants, but I don't have to listen to it. And I did. And I'm mad at myself for that.

Earlier that day, my friend called and said that she wanted to hang out with us that night. So, she came over and cooked another meal, which I actually ate, and I told her about what happened. She looked at my husband and said, "Why didn't YOU say anything?" And I totally understand why he didn't. It's the same reason why I didn't. We didn't want to make a scene at the table. We didn't want to make the family uncomfortable.

But she said, "I would have said something." And she would have. Right there on the spot. She would not have hesitated, she would have not done the math about who was there and who might have been offended. She would have said something. And it would have been witty and right to the point -- and done without hesitation. Because that's who she is. She is incapable of letting things like this go.

And so I am thankful. I'm thankful that I have friends like that. I'm thankful that I learned that I can walk away gracefully and without making a scene -- and thankful that I know that next time I will. But I'm mostly thankful that I will never have to eat a meal with that asshole again.