Strange Inspiration.

In looking for inspiration for my writing I have found that my best topics come, not from the newspaper or the television but from just good old walking around. Today, for example, I was on the way to my local street side produce store to purchase a couple grapefruit, when I noticed a thirtyish Asian woman walking toward me. When she looked up and noticed me she did a little stutter step and a quick look around, as if she was looking for an escape route. Finding no obvious area to run away, she knuckled under and walked by, as far from me as she reasonably could. As she went passed me I said," Good morning", she gave no response and just skittered by, Once behind me, however, she did something really odd, she ran to her car, hopped in and drove away. This I heard, i thought she might just be a crazy person, suffering from a bout of agoraphobia or massive paranoia and I didn't want to make it worse for her, plus I had already done that with the smile and saying good morning. Nothing drives a nutter over the edge faster than unwarranted politeness. Well I didn't want her strangeness to ruin my morning ritual of eating fresh fruit so I continued on. As I hit the market street and turned towards my sojourns end. I spied three women of a non-white nature at the door of the local hair braiding establishment, once again I thought maybe they were gawking at me and getting nervous because I am a good size white guy in an area of town dominated by people who look nothing like me, the average skin tone in my neighborhood leaning more toward the burnt umber than the ashen or alabaster. However, as I passed their door, they went inside and closed up behind them until I had gone. I thought this was really getting weird, then it hit me. In the last couple of months my neighborhood has had a few break-ins and shootings and many of these have been done by white fellows. Then, just yesterday, a man was shot and killed during a home invasion just blocks from my house. That was my missing link, the killer is still on the loose and the people around here are nervous and scared...of the whites! The white killer is still at large, maybe in our neighborhood, he strikes in the day time, not in the night like a proper robber. Now, I have often felt bad, or been told I should feel bad, about the fact that I have trouble telling people of another race, unless they really stand out or I have gotten to know them, apart from each other. I don't know why I was told that this was wrong I just was. It makes sense to me that, if you grow up around one race of people all your young life, that, as you get into a more racially diverse area, you would not recognize the differences in skin tone, eye shape, ETC., as readily as someone who had grown up there. The killer was listed as 5 feet 6 inches tall, spiky brown hair, slim build, no facial hair and white. I am 6 feet tall, I have a shaved head, am definitely not of slim build and at this point in time have a four day growth of beard. The only thing we have in common is our skin color. Yet, with all the crime in recent months, people do not see me as a writer or comedian, they see me only as whitey. "Oh Ethel did you see who just moved in next door? White as rice they were, there goes the neighborhood. "