“He was shouting so loud he drowned out my Rhianna…”

Margarita started our ride with an apology. Apparently, she had already started the trip on the app, because someone had jumped into the car and they went 400 feet before they realized he was in the wrong car. She was chipper, sounded like an American high school girl.

Originally from Mexico, she had been living in San Diego for the past 20 years. She worked in a community organization helping disabled people, and railed against those who didn’t deserve the help they got and lived off welfare.

“There’s always someone who doesn’t need the food or who is perfectly able to work, taking away all of that from someone who really needs it,” she railed. “Some of these Americans I see, perfectly healthy, no illness, no physical defect—yet they come in like clockwork to the shelters. And others, who are severely disabled and ill, they have to compete with these people for the same benefits.”

“Do you see a lot of it?”

“Oh, a ton,” she muttered. “You know, they moved the big homeless shelter from downtown to far away, in Mira Mesa or something. That’s fucked up; they just don’t want the tourists to see.”

“Did it work?”

“Not really. The homeless people just moved back downtown since no one would give them anything in the suburbs. But once again, half the people in those shelters don’t need to be there. Life is unfair.”

“Anything happen to you recently?”

“Yeah! I was parked outside a restaurant, and I think I might have been blocking someone. Which was my fault. So I began to move my car.”

“And?”

“Suddenly, this big white dude comes out fo the restaurant and starts knocking all aggressive-like on my window. When I wind it down, he just starts yelling at me.”

 

“What was he saying?”

“Horrible things. Like “Fucking nigger, move your fucking ass, you useless piece of shit.”

“What??”

“Yeah! He was shouting so loud he drowned out my Rhianna.”

“That’s horrible! Why was he doing that?”

She shook her head.

“How would I know? I mean, seriously, he couldn’t even get his racial slurs right. I’m from Mexico.”

 


About the artist

Paula Vrinceanu: “I am a Romanian visual artist working in this field for about 10 years now. Before this, I was a pianist: my life has always been an interesting and creative journey. I still play the piano when I have time, but now I’m focusing on visual art. I work in an advertising agency in Cluj, and at night- for few hours ( because, unfortunately, I need to sleep), I freelance and work on my own art business which I’ve started this year.