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I’m sitting here in a coffeehouse and to my right are three people — a black man, a white woman, and a white man — sitting adjacent on a couch. All three are haughtily typing on Macbooks propped on their knees.
I stare at them, smiling. “Ha, you guys look like a commercial.” I point my finger at each Macbook. A woman seated across from me suppresses a giggle.
The black guy and the white woman grin at my perspicacity. The white guy does not smile. He furrows his brow at me, clearly displeased that I have made a mockery of his lame SWPL status whoring. I smile at him in return.
There is no escaping tribalism.
Lenovo Thinkpad. That’s a real man’s laptop.