The Representative

So, I'm at the beach again this morning. It's beautiful out here. It's about 7:15am. I'm admiring the life guards doing their drills. Watching the plow rake the sand and all the treasure hunters with their medal detectors (they are funny)...and then I saw him. The only other Black person as far as the eye could see.

He's sitting on the bench facing the new sun and he's knocked out....cold. His head is doing the "Amen". He looks like a Japanese man at the start of a business meeting (bow, stand, bow, stand). He was doing (what we call in the aviation community) touch and go's. This is when an aircraft comes in for an approach but doesn't land. Instead their wheels touch the runway and they take back off. Okay, I'm getting off track...anyway...His body was propped up on the bench and his head would fly back so hard. All I could imagine was: if his head makes contact with that bench post, he will have a concussion.

At this time I'm staring at him and giggling to myself. This is usually what I do when I'm sleepy and in some kind of lecture setting. I find the other sleepy person and laugh at them (try it). Then my focus on him panned out. I start to notice everyone passing him and staring. That's when I started writing.

This situation went from funny to embarrassing. Why did I feel that he represents me and the entire African American race? Do other black people feel represented when that 1 black person does something stupid? Should we feel represented by that one person? Does that person actually represent us? Do you feel like a representative when you are one of the few black people in a crowd? Are you instantly on your best behavior? Do other races feel the same when they are alone in a group? All these questions started flooding my head. Then it got worse.

Around 7:45 (yes, 45 minutes later) a dang marathon started on that very boardwalk. At exactly 8:15am, he woke up and looked at all the marathoners. Three minutes later, his chin was touching his chest. I wanted to pick up that bench (wait...man running past in Speedo) and throw it in the ocean. He'd probably just flip over, like a buoy, and fall back to sleep.

Oh and don't give me that 'maybe he has a medical condition’ mess. Too many times people use that as an excuse for laziness. Every fat person does not have a thyroid problem and every sleeping person is not narcoleptic.

It's 8:30 and I'm still out here. Imagine how much fat he could've burned if he was walking instead of sleeping. 9:15, he's still out here and still asleep. I can only imagine how loud he's snoring. He probably sounds like your neighbors lawn mower at 4am, the morning after you went to the club...as loud as a chainsaw at a funeral. Ewww, and he's sweating like a hotdog on the grill. Maybe I can borrow one of the lifeguard’s bullhorns and yell "WAKE UP" like at the end of the movie "School Daze". Nah, probably wouldn't work. Well, it's 10am. I feel compelled to be extra productive to make up for "The Representative".