Do the White Thing: I Like Being in a White Environment

I now live in Kenai, AK?"All-America City," the town's sign says. I moved here because I like being in a white environment; I like living among white people, and I like working-class white people; I think they are overall very decent people. Not that we're having cookouts together?I didn't really come here to socialize and make lots of friends. I just came here to live freely and not be bothered by crime and urban social problems.

I'm married to an Asian, but being married to an Asian woman is a typical white thing. White guys often get Asian wives?whether from being in the Navy, from overseas dating services or by going on trips to places like Bangkok and the Philippines. A lot of these girls are really charming and make great wives, and white guys know this, and take advantage of it.

My last place of residence was San Francisco; I met my wife there. We lived together there for about 10 years and then made the big move up here.

I was destitute when I first lived in San Francisco. I had to stay in homeless shelters or sleep outside. The homeless shelters, I'm sure, are better than the ones in New York. I lived in New York City for 13 years, by the way, existing on a hand-to-mouth level. I never quite had to rely on a homeless shelter. For years I worked as a street bookseller. Maybe you bought a book from me.

Anyway, the homeless shelters in San Francisco were pretty safe. There are staff and security people to help you. But the potential for danger is definitely there?especially if you're white. The shelters are full of mean black ex-cons, some white ex-cons and a sizable number of Hispanics (some ex-cons, some not). There are some blacks and whites (like me) who are not ex-cons, too, but guys without criminal records are the exception. You have to carry yourself like a man or you will get torn to shreds. Carrying yourself like a man doesn't mean acting tougher than you really are. Your phoniness would quickly be intuited and they would call your bluff. You don't act friendly toward others (except your friends), but you don't act hostile, either. You always say, "Excuse me," you don't step on someone's foot, you don't sit down in someone's chair. Any of those things can be cause for violence. You mind your own business. You don't speak unless it's necessary, unless you're talking to one of your friends.

I was able to survive the experience, get on my feet and move on to a better life. I worked as a bicycle messenger while living in a shelter. I applied for General Assistance (welfare) and got it. In San Francisco it only takes three weeks before you receive money, and right away they give you a voucher to stay in a hotel for one week.

I met my girlfriend (now wife) and moved in with her, in her studio apartment at 8th and Market Sts. I was elated to have a girlfriend and to live with her in an apartment. But we wanted to get out of San Francisco. She wanted a bigger place, maybe a place with a yard where we could have a dog. The housing in the Bay Area is unaffordable, and my girlfriend was lucky to have a good deal on her apartment (because she'd been there for six years); but downtown where we were, there are so many bums and crack addicts and drug dealers. They especially come out at night on Market St. You cannot walk there safely at night.

My girlfriend and I got attacked by a crazy black fellow (I feel justified in using the N-word here but I won't, okay?) when we were walking home with a pizza. He was standing on the sidewalk at 7th and Mission Sts. with his woman. I didn't know what hit me. It felt like a truck hit me. Because all I remember was everything went black and I was lying on the sidewalk, face down on the pizza box, and my head felt messed up. I really didn't know I had been hit by someone, or even what had happened to me. My girlfriend said, "He's the one who did it," and she pointed at a figure standing farther down the block.

Now I came to my senses and realized what had happened. He had unleashed all of his force on me, punching me in the side of the head, blindsiding me as we passed by him, walking home with our pizza. He did it out of pure malice, as far as I can tell.

The scumbag and his girl were standing down the block ahead of us, so we would have to pass by him again. My girlfriend walked toward him. "That was him?" I asked her. "He's the one who hit me?" She nodded. "Be careful, I think he's crazy," she said.

I confronted him. I said, "What was that about, guy? You hit me in the head? What did you do that for?" Then I punched him three times, boom-boom-boom, with my right fist as hard as I could in his face. He returned a punch, saying, "You wanna fight me?" Sounding surprised. I punched him again and his nose started spurting blood. He then grabbed me by my jacket collar and slammed me into a parking meter, then slammed me into the sidewalk. There were no more blows exchanged, just scuffling. My girlfriend tried to grab him and get him off of me. "Leave him alone!" she cried. He grabbed her and groped her tits and then smacked her face a few times. He took our pizza and threw it on the ground, and squashed the slices on the sidewalk. Then he stalked off with his bitch.

We called 911 from the nearest payphone. A patrol car came and I explained what happened. I could spot my attacker in the distance, lurking in the shadows of a building. I wanted to get in the police car and have the cops pick him up and arrest him. The cops didn't go for it. "Oh, he'll just run away before we get there, soon as he sees us coming," one said. Thank you, SFPD. I said, "He committed assault on me, didn't he? Is that just a misdemeanor?" They claimed it was and said the most they could do would be to write him a ticket.

"Do you know this neighborhood?" cop said. "You shouldn't be walking in it." We said, "Yeah, we've lived in the vicinity for a while and we were just getting a pizza." Cop said, "Next time get it delivered," and they cruised off in their patrol car.

It's beautiful in Kenai, AK. The housing is cheap, and work is available. We have a nice one-bedroom house, with two acres of woods around it; we have a wood-burning stove, five cats and two dogs, and a baby on the way. And being white here does not make me a target of racist violence. I've had more than my fill of big-city living, and I'm glad to get away from it all.