Aliya S. King

I walk in. Another head nod from Omar.

Coffee?

Yeah, I say.

He turns to make the coffee.

There’s a Black man to my right, sitting at the counter, eating breakfast. I never see Black guys in Omar’s. For that matter, I never see Americans in Omar’s.

“What’s up Ma?” he says, his mouth full of food.

(more…)

The street I grew up on. Even though I moved out back in ’98, it’s still Home to me.

Is it politcally incorrect to wonder why so many convenience stores seem to be owned by the same ethnicity? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Black person running a corner store since Kerr’s Sweet Shop on the corner of Springdale and Grove. And that joint burned down well over a decade ago.

Is there a theory on this? I’m genuinely curious.

I heard awful, horrible not-good news yesterday about a magazine I love. Refuse to say it aloud until I read it somewhere official and it’s not a rumor. And then Tremaya leaves a comment about it on yesterday’s blog and it makes my stomach hurt. She said the internets are reporting it as fact.

No.

I can’t.

And then, I log on to blog and a wesbsite reporting on it has tracked back to my interview with the editor in chief of said magazine. Which means it shows up on the sidebar of my blog.

Which makes it feel true.

No. I can’t.

This is effing tragic.