Rant: From a Pepper Loving African Girl
And I hate all you fucking ignorant Anna Tacqueria workers. Look you guys don't know shit about us west Africans so just shut up and give me my fucking Jalapeños when I ask for them, GOD DAMNIT!! What, do you guys think Jalapeños ARE HOT?!! Shut up, even white people don't.
JALEPENOS? That's the hottest pepper you have? Okay then I'm going to need a lot of them, come on, keep going. Yeah, I see you brown skinned, non-African motherfuckers smirking at me in the corner. What, you think I'm too gringo to eat that? What is it, my American accent? The fact that I only weigh 112lbs? That I'm a girl? Hey I've been downing hot pepper since the womb people, the WOMB. I could eat all the tasteless, weak, Jalapeños you have. YOU DON'T KNOW ME.
So I'm already pissed walking out of Anna's that those are the hottest peppers those dumbstruck motherfuckers have and when I get home what do I find?? NO FUCKING JALAPENOS. OH HELL NO! I. DID NOT. JUST WALK. FOUR (4). BLOCKS. To your fucking gringo-ass Brookline store (in this Eskimo ass climate mind you!) to be robbed of my peppers. MAN WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?! WHY GOD, WHY??!
“DID I NOT ASK SPECIFICALLY FOR Jalapeño?!”
That's right, you in the corner, where's my motherfucking pepper-no don't try to sneak away to the back, don't you dare walk away from me! Don't look at me all stupid and big eyed either, I saw you put some on then disappear into the back and when I got home, none, nada (man...if I wasn't on my cell phone..)! NO JALAPENOS! WTF! You switched my burrito didn't you, or threw them away, ate them up or something. YOU DID SOMETHING BACK THERE! Now listen up, come right up to my light skinned, big eyed, long eyelashed, fucking high cheekbone, big nosed Liberian face. Put ALL THE FUCKING Jalapeños YOU HAVE ON MY BURRITO! No IT “AINT ENOUGH”, IT AINT ENOUGH UNTIL I SAY SO! AND DON'T worry about those other hoes in the line, FUCK YOU; you're the one that fucked up, you fucked up all this shit when you fucked up my burrito. Hell yeah, its HALF EATEN, don't even remind me, DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED on the first excruciating half of the fucked up, tasteless burrito that YOU made!! That's right FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING RESTAURANT I'M NOT COMING BACK, you fucking ignorant, just off the boat, dying to be FUCKED UP FUCKING Americans!!
Also, to every supermarket worker: JUST LET ME GET MY PEPPERS IN PEACE MAN. No I don't want to answer any of your annoying questions-where I'm from, why I'm dumping the ENTIRE basket of Habenero in my shopping bag, and etc. (What you don't have more in the back?? I can't believe this shit). That is why I've made all you guys little cards, which I plan to hand out to you all silent faced, seriously this is serious shit.
1.Liberia. YES FOR TRUE TRUE, formerly and/or still THE WORLDS MOST DANGEROUS COUNTRY. Hint: GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER.
2. Yes I'm quite aware it's the hottest pepper in the world.
3. Yes, I know what I'm doing dimwit. No I just asked you particularly for the ORANGE and hottest breed of THE Habenero pepper because I have no fucking clue.
4. I freeze them because I know I cannot live a SINGLE DAY without pepper and do not want to flip shit when Habenero suddenly disappears from every market in Boston's vicinity.
5. Pepper soup, Palmbutter stew, fu-fu, listen you don't even have any idea what this shit taste like and, as you can see from my hurried pepper picking hands, I don't have the time to explain, besides don't you have new produce to tag?
And guys at work, listen, because I'm just trying to thrive in this motherfucking country as a pepper loving Liberian girl I have to try to eat its tasteless food every once in a while so when I do YOU BET Tabasco's going to be all over my pizza. So to all of my coworkers and former coworkers out there and those who might experience me while at a restaurant: mind your own business and don't stare while I pepperize, that's just rude! I know you like me but you don't have to sit here! YOU DON'T AND NEVER HAVE HAD TO EAT LUNCH WITH ME. I'm quite fine eating lunch by myself, in fact, I PREFER to eat lunch by myself. If I want to dump half a bottle of Tabasco on my chicken sandwich, I will. You aren't eating it and this way I can pretty much count on never having to share. So look the fuck away. I love you guys, you're funny and interesting, you can handle more than two beers, but I love pepper a whole lot more. So sorry, but this sandwich is too good right now.