Brew Commentary: The Cookout

We Witches have already admitted to profiling people with ignant negrid names, but this Witch has another confession; I profile families as well. Case in point, I was dating this dude last summer when he invited me to stop by his family’s cookout. When I pulled up, I had to look twice because I had stepped squarely into a real life stereotype!

I could not believe these people were related to my guy who was Joe Biden clean and articulate and in great shape. Not the case with his cousins. They were meaty (and I don’t mean what was on the grill) and sweaty to say the least. I counted five apparent street pharmacists, 3 pregnant girls under the age of 17 and a big Madea looking matriarch who keep asking people to donate to her “bingo fund”. WTF?!?

I spent most of that afternoon wincing at the excessive use of slang and double negatives, while watching his family shovel burnt barbeque and Sam’s Club cupcakes down their pie holes. After promising his 50-year-old cousin that there is life outside of his mama’s basement, I slowly surveyed this corrupt gene pool and silently wondered if I stayed with this guy would this Adams Family ruin our wedding day or teach our children how to do ‘hood rat stuff’? Now, I am by no means bougie. I grew up around all types of people and I have a few characters in my family, but when the scale tips more toward the crazy one has to wonder. I eventually ended things with this guy, not entirely for that reason, but I have to be honest when I saw his family did come into play. I know you don’t marry the relatives, but I have to believe that ‘the apple doesn’t far fall from the tree’ is a saying for a reason. Am I wrong?