Chivalry is Not Dead, and the Civil Rights Movement Marches On

It was the kind of conversation you can only have when you've been in the car together for over an hour, and you know you have at least another hour to go.

We're driving past a Deja Vu, when he asks if I've ever been in one. I hadn't, although some coworkers tried really hard to get me to go on my 18th birthday. That was back when I lived in Bakersfield.

Ha! Yeah, it's that kind of place. A place for 18 year olds. You lived in Bakersfield, man? My cousins live down there, and that's the first strip club I ever went to. Crazy huh? I've only been a few times; it's not worth it, man. It's a juice bar, you know. So you can't get a real drink to loosen up and have fun. Then you go home and you're just frustrated, blue ball's and all that. It's no satisfaction, it's just a big tease.

Bakersfield is a fucked up place, man. Everybody's so ignorant down there, racist and all.

I tell him I know what he means, and has he read The Grapes of Wrath? He kind of looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

I was in the Deja Vu there with my cousins one time, and there was this beautiful black girl dancing. Only time I ever saw a black girl in there. But nobody was watching her dance. I'm not even exaggerating, man. Every guy in the place was watching this blond, and she was good looking, too, but it was crowded over there. It wasn't right, you know?

So me and my cousins went over there and watched the black girl. She was a good dancer, too. We watched her and got loud about her. 'Cause we wanted her to know that she was beautiful, and we wanted the other guys to hear about it, too. We tipped her real good, and I bought a lap dance for my little cousin. It just wasn't right the way they were treating her. Just because she's black? She was beautiful, too.