When I was growing up, my parents did not look kindly on anyone who would call during the dinner hour—and woe to the perspective suitor that did so! Even now, I don’t make personal calls during the hours from 6PM to 8PM, especially not to my parents.
And even during the usual hours for the other two meals, I hesitate to call, unless the person asks me to do so. Civilized families sit down together to eat and it’s rude to interrupt a meal, at least that’s how I was raised. So one can imagine how I feel about this.
For the second time in two weeks, the misguided mob was at it again on Sunday in New York and San Francisco, disrupting peaceful omelets and eggs Benedicts, challenging gay brunchers to a contest of victimization and this holiday weekend, pretending the claim the mantle of Martin Luther King Jr. as a civil rights cause.
All in all a pretty busy Sunday for people who probably don’t do much the rest of the week.
But you’d think their mothers might have told them: Annoying people is no way to make friends.
I told the story about my family to address this very point: the mothers of these Defenders of Blackness probably never made it a point to sit down regularly at a certain time to eat a meal uninterrupted ever–much less tell them that common sense bit about being annoying. (And let’s not even go there about their fathers.) Therefore, these uncouth, short-term thinkers view a pleasant, peaceful meal among family and friends as something “white” that they need to disrupt with their “blackness.”
Lots of people are wondering what these people are trying to accomplish by inserting themselves into someone’s breakfast. I don’t. They are merely enjoying the look on the faces of the patrons. White, scrunched up expressions give them joy. All that crap about #blacklivesmatter is mere cover for the juvenile joy of disrupting something that white persons are enjoying. They are undisciplined, uncivilized brats, funded by other undisciplined, uncivilized brats.
When this happened a few weeks ago, I joked that there used to be a time when interrupting a meal was grounds for a duel. We’ll see what happens if the “Black Brunch” crowd decides to grow some stones and take their show on the road to a Red State.
Juliette Akinyi Ochieng blogs at baldilocks. (Her older blog is located here.) Her first novel, Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game, was published in 2012. Her second novel, tentatively titled, Arlen’s Harem, will be done in 2015. Follow her on Twitter.
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