Bad Advice On Drunken Racism And Spiteful Old Women
Welcome to our latest Bad Advice column! Stay tuned every Tuesday for more terrible guidance based on actual letters.
“I’m a white female, and I have a biracial nephew of white and Mexican heritage, so clearly, I have a problem when my white friend tells jokes about Mexicans. She only does it when she’s drunk, so it’s hard to tell if she really means it or is trying to be funny.
I don’t have any friends in Houston except for her, so I wouldn’t want to lose her as a friend. How do I get her to stop saying offensive things about Mexicans?”
— Via “Ask Willie D,” Houston Press, 6 April 2017
It is kind of you to acknowledge that you oppose racism and bigotry when it concerns your family members; it is so difficult to know, these days, which humans deserve to be treated with respect and you have bravely staked out a stance in support of the people you happen to be related to.
But of course your generosity puts you in quite a quandary; the tiny burg of Houston, Texas offers little in the way of millions of people to befriend who probably aren’t giant racists. You must remain friends with this racist at all costs — after all, lots of perfectly not-racist people accidentally think of, decide to verbalize, and then actively tell racist jokes while consuming alcohol, under the influence of which no one can be held accountable for their behavior. That’s why we always ask, when a drunk person is dancing, if they’re really doing the Cupid shuffle, or if, when a drunk person destroys “Total Eclipse of the Heart” at karaoke, whether they really fall apart, every now and then. Who can say? It’s all so confusing!
You must remain friends with this racist at all costs.
The only way to get your friend to stop telling racist jokes is to hope that she’s just kidding, which means her racism has no practical effect on anyone, ever. If you confront her about being a bigot, it’s likely you’ll wind up in the worst possible position: not friends with a racist.
“My single sister will be 85 this year. I’m 78. We have always had a close relationship.
She has no last will or trust, and will leave a reasonably large estate to me, assuming that I outlive her. Her health is not good.
I have adult children I would prefer that she leave her estate to. I have not had success in convincing her to get her affairs in order. She doesn’t like to take even a suggestion of it from me and hasn’t thus far acted on my kids’ requests to do so.
Without a will, our state’s probate is time-consuming and expensive. I fear I will be left to handle it and don’t feel capable at this point.
I can’t understand her reluctance in this and wonder if she is acting out of spite. When the suggestion has been made, she makes the excuse of not feeling up to it and is actually somewhat hostile. It’s like she’s in denial. This has been causing me considerable stress.
— From “Stressed-Out Brother” via “Ask Amy,” Washington Post, 28 April 2017
Dear Stressed-Out Brother,
Denial is an exceedingly uncommon reaction to one’s forthcoming shuffle off this mortal coil, so your sister’s lack of interest in dedicating herself to forking over all her worldly possessions to your kids upon her death is certainly something of a mystery.
Time is running out for this 85-year-old woman to get off her ass and ruminate on her own demise; the only explanation for this bizarre behavior is pure spite. Anyone with an ounce of decency would jump at the chance to contemplate their own mortal end at length, and your sister seems intent on delaying this delightful pastime purely to piss you off. What a source of stress she’s cruelly creating for you in lieu of ensuring you and your children are safely entrusted with easy access to her fortune, an endeavor that anyone who wasn’t meanness incarnate would eagerly relish.
You and your children must continue to badger this old biddy relentlessly about getting your hands on her cash; with enough pressure, she may indeed decide to settle the question of bequeathing to you her estate once and for all.
“My single friend and I go to bars, clubs, lounges, etc., hoping to meet cute guys. But men do not approach us. We’re both in our early twenties, in great shape, work in fashion, have nice apartments, and are ready for some fun! But it’s like we’re wearing man repellent! We watch guys approach girls far less attractive than we are, and it’s so frustrating. What felony are we committing?
—From “Should Be Meeting Multiple Men!” via “Ask E. Jean,” Elle, 27 April 2017
Dear Should Be Meeting Multiple Men,
Heterosexual romance is a transactional encounter to which any woman who reaches your soaring heights of attractiveness is entitled by virtue of her ability to put on a good pair of shoes, so as far as the Bad Advisor can tell, you’re doing everything right by sulking around and hoping some dude at a club chats you up in between your riveting efforts at giving knife-eyes to women who have the gall to lack your stunning beauty.
This is, after all, how all great love stories through the ages have begun: Grandma plopped her greatly shaped ass on a stool with a martini and stared into space until Grandpa, unable to resist the pull of her ravishing interest in doing fuck-all, took her back to her nice apartment and had “some fun.” The only felony you’re committing is the crime of being, perhaps, too beautiful. Probably you are too strikingly stunning, thereby blinding potential suitors to the fact that they could, in a matter of hours, be impressed by your granite countertops.