While I was in the locker room getting dressed after my afternoon workout, there were two guys having a candid conversation about how white they were.  They actually weren’t talking about literally how white they were, but the entire conversation they were having was pretty much explaining just how white they were.  It’s not that I wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation, but they didn’t make any effort to suppress it in a public area, and I couldn’t help but hear just how white they could make the locker room.

They were complaining about how close to turning 30, and how they were “old as shit,” and then they started talking about how their parents are just turning 60, and how their grandparents are getting old, and that the next visit to them might be the last, so they should consider taking a week instead of three days to visit them… because they’re overseas in foreign countries, because like most white-collar stereotypical white people, they come from some money.

And then came the comparisons to their parents gallivanting in Greek villas, and how much of an inconvenience it would be to spend time with family, when it encroaches on their time in which they’d probably rather be snorting coke off of hookers or belittling minorities; but who’s to say not both, and simultaneously at that?

I left the gym with a feeling of agitated disgust at perceived as white privilege on display.  Both these guys are clearly younger than I am, but in cushy corporate positions doing most likely intangible work on computers that is probably eons removed from consumers, but probably make more money than I do.  They come from families that are younger and way better off than my own parents, in their Italian vacation homes on remote private islands.  They’re discussing foreign vacation plans, and although I’m no stranger to international travel, I’d wager that my trips are vastly less extravagant as theirs might be.

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