My other racist story.

That last story was a bit touchy feely, and for that I am sorry. I wouldn't want to give the impression that I'm some sort of softy. So here is the story of the other time I met a racist.
I was at a wedding, (funny side story-I went to the town that the wedding was in and knowing the wedding was at a Holiday Inn I stopped in and asked if there was a wedding reception going on. The woman said the Breeze wedding was around back. I was actually looking for the Preese wedding but mis understood. So after walking around the hall for about 10 minutes an old woman asks me if I know where to put the gift envelopes and I say "I don't even thing I'm at the right wedding!" and she looks at me and says "You're a fucking idiot!". She didn't say that. She said "Jack and Amanda?" and I say no and I leave. Off to the other Holiday Inn. Ha!).
That was probably an abuse of parethases.
So I'm at the correct wedding and the reception is nice. Some friends of mine offer to let me stay in their room if I want to go to the bars with them. I say yes, we drink a lot, get back to the hotel and are all hanging out. I have to get something from the car and a cousin of the bride says "I'll go with you, I have to get something from my car, too.".
Now I don't know where or when we picked up this dude on our evenings revelry but he seemed friendly and was sporting a southern accent and that always make people seem kinder for some reason. We ride the elevator down to the parking lot. As we are walking across the parking lot he spies a fish shaped chrome stick on on the back of my car. It is actually an upsidedown fish skeleton, not a Jesus one. He inquires if I am a Christian. I reply I am not. He then asks if I am a ________. I don't understand the word. He says it again and adds the words white power. I look at him sideways. He then lays into song. I'm not kidding. It's some white supremist anthem. I say that I am not anything. I place no label on my self or others. He says something to the effect of how he don't care about that he just don't like ni... He does not get to finish the word. No of his own accord, but because my flattened hand and the chopping blow to his wind pipe. Sometimes you don't realize how strong you are and other times you wish you were stronger. This time is the latter. The look on his face is of pure astonishment. The gaping mouth, the hands over the throat, the eyes tearing up, it was over for this dude. No ambulance could get here fast enough to remedy this situation. I look at him. I almost feel bad. He drops to the concrete slab. I grab his arm and pull him to between the cars. I've got a little time to think this through. I reach into his pocket and pull out his keys. I press the unlock button. Ten cars down from me a car's lights flash. How convienient. I drag him over and put him in the trunk. Just a guy looking to connect I think to myself. me too.
I go back up to the room. We have a few more beers and no one asks about the racist dude. I fgure I will gave to do sonethng at this point. Everone knows I walked out with him. Just no one cared he didn't come back. At least utility the police start asking questions. Hmmm. This is a river town. Located on a beautiful but shallow river. Not deep enough to hide a car. How do I get rid of this dude. I fall asleep in a chair. I wake up early. Before anyone else is up I grab my shit and head to the car park. The elevator door opens and I see a police car. It looks as if someone was missing the dude. By the age of the couple standing next to the car I can only assume it's the dude's parents. Shit. I think of everythng except that his family was here. At his cousin's wedding. Dumb. I walk to my car and get in. I start it up and drop it in reverse. I back out and put it in drive. As I'm rolling forward, one of the officers puts up his hand to stop me. He is going to ask questions. He is going to know I'm lying. I pull up to him and stop. I press the window down button. The officer informs me I have a headlight out and should get it fixed. I say thanks and drive on. I pull out of the ramp and head home. I pack for a long trip, load up my guns, pack the car full. I figure at this point it might as well be the start of a spree. I check my maps and the Internet and head for the deep south. If I go, I'm gonna go out as a legend.