Two years ago, the First Lady was slumming in a Target store. A woman approached her. FLOTUS preened herself fussily. Oh, the charade was all over; she’d been “outted” as the First Lady.
Michelle prepared herself for an autograph request or perhaps a photo-op. But the diminutive peasant only asked Lady O to fetch a bottle of laundry detergent that was on a high shelf. Then the peasant went on her way, without as much as a by-the-way-aren’t-you-the-First-Lady.
She complied and her assistant later on went on television to tell the “charming” story.
But that was two years ago. The mid-term election is over. The Republicans have won back the Senate and bolstered their presence in the House of Representatives. We’ve since had to endure the riots in Ferguson over a justified killing of a black thug and the acquittal of the police officer in that case and the not-quite-as-justified killing of a black man on Staten Island. The man on Staten Island, incidentally, did not die from a chokehold but from a half-ton or so of overzealous cops sitting on him and smashing his face into the sidewalk.
These two incidents have set up the perfect stage for Racism Theater. Lady O now claims that the short, white woman in North Carolina was a racist who selected FLOTUS not for the fact that she was tall, that she was standing where the laundry detergent was, and the FLOTUS had dressed like a frumpy hausfrau. No one would have mistaken her for a Target employee.
Nevertheless, that is what FLOTUS now claims and decries: that this racist white woman mistook her for a Target employee because she’s black.
How ironic that Lady Obama should choose the Christmas season to become huffy about this incident. She’s willing to assist her husband in fleecing the white (and black) middle class with the Affordable Care Act. That only involves making television appearances and giving soapy speeches about the poor and downtrodden.
When one of them actually applies to the First Lady, incognito as one of us, for help, she reluctantly helps the woman. But now uses the incident as a soapbox to make a case for white racism in America.
So much for helping your fellow man, or in this case, your fellow housewife. How embarrassing to be mistaken for a Target employee instead of the First Lady of the Land. Perhaps it hadn’t occurred to her that no one would expect to see a First Lady in a Target discount store.
A woman claiming to be the shopper’s sister said that her sister told her of the incident. Evidently, FLOTUS handed her a floral scented detergent. The shopper was buying the detergent for her son, according to the caller. She said she would have asked for another one but at the moment didn’t think it was a good idea. Did FLOTUS give the shopper the impression that her assistance was given grudgingly? Is that when she didn’t think it was a good idea? Did FLOTUS give her an imperious scowl as she handed down the bouquet-scented detergent?
The woman said that her sister went away without even thanking the tall black woman. But that, too, she thought, wasn’t a good idea. She just wanted to get away as quickly as possible.
I’ve been mistaken for a store employee at times. I’m not black but I look like someone who could only get by on a store employee’s salary. Actually, thanks to Obama, many workers who once had good-paying, managerial positions are working in retail these days. So let us not insult these hard-working people who’ve been thrust down into these positions by none other than FLOTUS’s husband.
I was once 5 foot 7 inches and have been asked to fetch things down from high shelves at stores like Wal-Mart and Target. Having more of the milk of human kindness in my veins than FLOTUS evidently has, I gladly helped the other shoppers. I knew one day, I wouldn’t be quite as tall and might need help. In fact, that day came in rather short, painful order this summer. At the beginning of summer, I was 5 foot 7. I’m now 5 foot 4 and can no longer reach the high shelves myself.
M.O. went into that Target store to bolster her image as a working-class woman. When she was treated like one, she had a hissy fit. The next time I’m in Target and find myself in need of help, I certainly won’t beg help from imperious-looking, tall black women in loud shirts with special assistants in their wake.