I am an Indian c*nt, or so I was told

Just over a month ago I was called an Indian c*nt. Repeatedly. By a white 30- something male. A complete stranger. We were in a parking lot of a Party City and I had just bought an oversized balloon and party bags for my 8 year-old’s birthday. With me were two of my children and the incident frightened them so much that my 6 year-old insisted that I drive away “quickly.” My 3 year-old listened, quietly-confused.

This happened in a parking lot, on a sunny afternoon, in Mission Valley San Diego. Let that sink in. This happened in California.

His car was parked next to my minivan and as I approached my minivan, with two children in tow, I could hear the profane music he was playing. I ignored it and began to pull out of my parking spot, windows down. He turned down his music and I heard him utter words that rhymed with “loopid” and “witch” and those words were directed at the way I was backing out and myself. His friend in the backseat thought it was hilarious. Groupie or sidekick, whatever. They were grown bullies.

“I am sorry. Are you talking to me?” I stated as I looked over at him.

“Ain’t nobody talking to you, you Indian c*nt.” He responded, his friend grimacing.

I was taken aback by the insult yet confused because I am not Indian. According to my DNA results I am Mexican (Native American), African, Finnish and Pacific Islander. But that is beside the point.

I asked him to repeat his words and he did whilst kindly displaying his middle finger. His friend at this point was in a fit of laughter. Comedy Central, right?

As those of us caught in these incidents do, I taped the entire thing on my phone. He continued with his insults. He continued to call me an Indian c*nt. He continued to tell me to get a life. He threatened to run me over with his car for filming him. He informed me that I did not have permission to film his car. I reminded him that he was in a public place and I told him that I was a lawyer. He covered his face, as did his sidekick. That I was a lawyer seemed to intensify his anger and the insults multiplied. I stood my ground, composed. I did not curse. He drove off and shouted “INDIAN C*NT.” I calmed my kids and went on with my day.

In retrospect, I should have also told him that I wasn’t Indian. He would have fallen over in disbelief and sought a new racist slur.

I thought about it for the rest of the day. My kids still remember that angry man but they don’t understand the words. I am 36 years-old and that was the first time a racist slur has been aggressively uttered at me and I did nothing wrong. I wasn’t giving a speech. I wasn’t protesting. I wasn’t committing a crime. I was buying party supplies with my kids. It was my mere presence or existence that upset this man. For whatever reason he was angry and probably still is.

I obviously know nothing about him and I do not really care to but we are living in a day when people are emboldened to be racist and aggressive if they want to be. That’s not ok.