Coffee Cream and Everything In Between

On the advice of my financial advisor I went to the public library and signed up for a new card. Given how much I would spend a month on books alone, the card I think will be worth it's weight in gold. I've always loved the library, the quietness except for the rustle of pages and the smell of the dust settling on the stacks, in between shelves. Love it. What I did not love was being stopped by a young woman who was on her way up the stairs to the restroom as I was walking back downstairs.

"Excuse me," she asked, stopping sharply and swiveling her thin body around, "what are you?" I have been asked this numerous times, too many to count. Less so in the Bay Area but once is plenty in my experience. I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the question and out of pure surprise. Most black people know "what" I am. I told her I was black which of course led to the next question.

"But like, you're mixed with something aren't you?" Again, I'm so glad my sense of humor is getting better so I listed for her the background of both my parents. "Wow," she exclaimed, grinning widely at me.

"Well, that's it, take care." I continued walking downstairs.

"DO YOU EVER GET CONFUSED?" I couldn't help but chuckle at that one.

"NO!" I yelled back up the stairs of the library.