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Standing Mute or Shut Up and Pay Your Taxes

Jesse James | March 9, 2010 | 1 Comment

Back around the beginning of the year I took a little trip to my local Walmart to buy a few things for my new apartment. Now usually I try to avoid Walmart because it makes me a little sick to send money to the Chinese for things that we used to make here in America. The constant stream of dangerous product revelations like cadmium coated play jewelry for children, lead tainted dishes and christmas lights, and exploding faux Chinese Pyrex has only served to increase my disdain for the Great Wall of China. Yet there I was buying a few cheap things for my household, just like everybody else.

Ready to check out I scanned the aisles looking for my best bet. My criteria has gotten more detailed over the years and I no longer just go for the shortest line as my experience is that you are better off going for an alert intelligent white cash register clerk. You have a better chance of being dealt with honestly and competently. I also try to avoid people with tons of stuff or who appear to be “slow minded”.

Living in the South I have to deal with a lot of black check out people and rarely do I find one who is either competent or pleasant. The usual is a sullen young black woman who doesn’t make eye contact or acknowledge any friendly greeting on your part. She makes sure that you understand she is doing you a favor to check you out and that she doesn’t like white people. Which is OK with me usually as I am growing to feel the same way about black people or at least those blacks who seem hostile to me and would rather not talk to them if given a choice. If you are at the Atlanta airport or a Braves game you will be fortunate if you aren’t cheated on your change.

Anyway I decided on getting in the line worked by a young white woman who seemed energetic and friendly. There was only one person in front of me and my instincts told me to find another line but I told myself to not prejudge people, this line was the shortest and the clerk seemed to be good to go.

What gave me pause? The one person in front of me was a black woman who had a very full cart and seemed a little different in dress and bearing. I looked at the other lines and all of them had at least three people ahead of me so I stayed where I was despite my gut feeling. Sure enough the black woman in front of me was some kind of foreigner and seemed to not speak or understand English.

Now the thing most sure to waste your time besides a black clerk is a black customer in front of you. Their transactions often seem to take longer and require more communication with the store clerk. Sure enough the molasses like slow drip inefficiency began immediately. You see this was a not a simple transaction as part of the woman’s “purchases” would be paid for with a WIC (women, infants and children) voucher and the remaining items would be paid for with cash. The clerk energetically started to assist the woman in dividing the goods in the cart into two piles. I looked over longingly at the other lines but they were still longer and several people were already in line behind me partially trapping me in place.

The woman grunted out something unintelligible and pulled out a roll of cash bound by a rubber band. Stripping a few $20s off the top she paid the clerk for the first part of her purchase. So far so good, despite the extra time of dividing up the items things were going pretty smoothly thanks to the white clerk who was clearly going beyond the norm for being pleasant and helpful. No doubt she thought it was her Christian duty to help out the less fortunate and welcome the foreigner. The clerk scanned a few items and then everything started to fall apart. It was the cheese that did it of course.

You see the slices of American cheese were individually wrapped. Somewhere sometime back in the dawn of Georgia’s social welfare system one of our governments infinitely wise and compassionate bureaucrats decided that sliced cheese was good for women, infants and children but that individually wrapped slices of cheese was too much of an extravagance for those reliant on the tax funded assistance of the government. Had I but known what an odyssey of irritating good intentioned idiocy was going to be inflicted on me I might well have forked over a fiver and saved myself a good bit of annoyance and your time and effort in reading this rant.

You see for once my pre-screen for an energetic and helpful seeming check out clerk blew up in my face. After fruitlessly attempting to communicate to the African (or Caribbean? who knows?) woman about the government’s problem with wrapped cheese slices, the clerk decided to take matters into her own capable hands. She took the package of wrapped cheese slices away and headed to the dairy section to remedy the mistake because she new…exactly…which…cheese…the…government…would…pay…for. All of that was sort of shouted over her shoulder as the clerk abandoned the register.

I was speechless and looking behind me I was now really trapped as my position in the check out aisle made it impossible to even switch lines. All of the other people who had been in other lines three and four deep when I first came to the check out were long gone. There were a lot more people in all the check out lines now and there were at least seven people behind me. The clerk was gone…a…long…time. Finally she came back slightly out of breath but happy to have been of assistance…until she attempted to scan the “correct” WIC cheese. It wouldn’t scan and for the first time the clerk seemed a bit flustered. The crowd in line behind me was still waiting patiently but the mood was starting to turn a bit.

Instead of just telling the woman customer that she would have to go without the cheese this time the clerk doubled down in her determination to be… the most…helpful…clerk…ever. She left the register again with the incorrect but unwrapped block of sliced cheese and went in search of her manager. I was amazed that she thought it was ok to inconvenience the entire crowd of paying customers trapped behind me to help this foreigner who had not spoken a word of thanks and who seemed completely indifferent and unaware of what was going on in an attempt to better help her take full advantage of the WIC program.

While the clerk conferred frantically with her clearly bored and uninterested “manager” I took a bit of time to reflect on the situation that I was in and how it had come about. You see I had already waited in line behind just one person for over twenty minutes and the end was still not in sight. I wondered how many times similar events play out each day and how much lost productivity occurred in similar molasses events around America each day. I wondered where the foreign woman came from and how she found her way to Athens Georgia. I wondered why the American taxpayer was being forced to borrow money from the Chinese who already have most of our manufacturing jobs just to pay in to an endless stream of low skill non-white immigrants. I wondered who had helped this woman come to our country and why? I could not understand of what benefit other than breeding future Democratic voters she could possibly have for our country.

Finally the clerk gave up and came back to finish scanning the woman’s other WIC items. The end seemed near until the final tally was done and the woman presented not one but two WIC vouchers…with two different names. The clerk, efficient to the last, looked hard but rapidly at both vouchers and explained to the woman that she could not by law accept WIC vouchers with different names from one customer on one transaction. Once more the “purchase” had to be divided so that one WIC voucher would cover the whole purchase. I wondered which name was chosen as the correct identity. The black foreign woman never said a comprehensible word in English or any other language. She was also standing mute and I guess happy to get whatever free benefit that she could.

I never said anything ugly or aggressive but I did occasionally look at the woman and the clerk with that blank incomprehensible and unapologetic stare that I have learned from blacks. Who says we can’t learn from each other? I wondered how a woman who couldn’t speak our language or at least pretended she couldn’t speak it could have managed to get not only one but two different WIC vouchers. Once again I wondered who facilitated all this robbing of the taxpayer. I considered demanding that the event be reported to the welfare people but I know that this type of abuse is common and not of interest to the type of social worker whose politics and rice bowl all depend on the transfer of wealth from taxpayers to tax consumers. It would be just an exercise in futility.

The foreign black welfare cheat finally shoved off and it was my time to check out. I glanced behind me as my own items finally started to be checked out and saw other customers standing patiently and quietly but I also saw a number of people who had the same hard eyed look that I imagine was found in my own eyes. In the end it took me about 45 minutes to get through that check out line to buy about six items. As I left I notice the block of cheese and several other perishable items still sitting by the cash register going bad, I was glad I didn’t have to buy them after they were restocked. I have only been back to that store once in the past two months since that event.

Later I thought that this incident, though trivial on one level, at another was a perfect metaphor for modern America. Whites like me, still a majority, stand silently aware that we are being screwed but are at a loss as what to do. We know that we are being racially and culturally displaced but we know that if we speak out it is us that will “get banned from Walmart” and harassed by the police. We are expected to just stand mute and pay our taxes. Nothing short of a complete break down in the government will change this madness that we are all forced to support and accept.

What is going on is a cultural genocide being conducted against white Americans and to add insult to injury we are being forced to pay for it while our children are being brainwashed by the government schools, corporate advertisement propaganda, and entertainment media to believe that we somehow owe our own dissolution to the world as atonement for past sins. Yet who will pay for this welfare to the world when we have been driven out of existence? Clearly there are those who would rather we all sink into the mud than to have any stand above it and we will sink as it is impossible to have both a modern socialist welfare state and allow unlimited legal and illegal immigration of millions of low skill non-white third world people. It can’t be sustained and it will fall apart. The only question is will there be enough Americans left to remake America when it does?

© Jesse James