A few years ago, I had a money order to pick up at a Western Union store.

I had used the particular store before, but haven’t dealt with this particular nigger behind the counter. It was a young coon. All dressed up in a spiffy uniform, doing it’s best to hide the shitbeast within by sounding all civilized. “Ahm sorry suh!” “Ah cants do dat suh!” “Dat be against uh rules”.

I couldn’t pick up the money order because I had an out of state drivers license, and according to the coon, I had to have an in state drivers license, which was of course nonsense.

Despite claiming what “da rules be” it was clear that this particular dindu had no clear idea what the rules really were. Kinda like having a monkey read the instruction manual to a car. It might figure out that “shiaat” happens if it turns the ignition key, but no real understanding of what is really happening, and what to do next.

I finally gave up arguing with him, but not before casually saying: “Fine, fine... No reason to be a nigger about it!” (Even though I wasn’t a full on Niggermaniac yet, I couldn’t resist the temptation to get back at him.)

The change in the spear-chucker was as sudden as it was violent. The facade of civilization, the “suh”s and any pretense of being a harmless magic negro was instantly gone, and the halfwit expression in his eyes were replaced by raw, ape-like fury. For a second it felt like I’d been transported hundreds of thousands of years back in time, to an African savannah.

“WHADDAFUG YOUZ BE SAYING IMMA MOFUGGINGFUGYUUP MOFOGGA” He started eeking and ooking, jumping up and down and shaking his fist as if holding an imaginary spear or human bone in his hand. Alas, I didn’t stay to enjoy the rest of the chimpout, and was already halfway out the store before he bellowed out his first “mofugga”.