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Brown Man, Sandy City


By the title of this blog one might assume the Brown Man has returned to his stereotypical sandy roots. But I did the next best thing and ventured to Cape Cod for the weekend with Fifi’s (fiancee’s) family. We are at a cottage by private beaches. And we are missing our bed.

It’s not because we are home sick. Nay, Fifi has a scorn for a bed that is used week after week by random gross people. And let’s face it, those people are likely white people. And if I know a lot of white folk, they aren’t wiping their feet and cleaning after themselves in a beach cottage. Rather, they’re walking the unpaved roads barefoot and back into the house- and even hopping into beds without a shower.

You bring my hoity toity family out here they’ll be taking a shower every hour due to their city slickness. The minority side of them would never allow shoes in the cottage and socks only. My mother would bring her own pots and spoons rather than use the ones available. Funny how living in the city just makes you conscious of how dirty other people really are.

Unfortunately we didn’t think about bringing our own sheets so we have to borrow one from mother in law and cover the pillows with our beach towel for fear of last week’s guest’s crud going up our ear holes. Because that’s where unwanted crud goes.

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2 Responses

  1. I remember brown man, telling our history teacher Mr. Davidson, that your family came out to the states, because of the toilet paper, and bathroom facilities. I am sure you can dig deep into your roots, and pretend you are back in G** and just live like you would have lived, had your family not immigrated out to the americas.Just commenting. LALALA

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