Letters from the Darker Populace (#2 Address Our Needs)

Dear Mr. President,

I drink water all day long at work. Every once in awhile, I'll grab some juice, but my main drink of choice is water, since it's good for me and quenches my thirst. But there are some days that want nothng more than my favorite soft drink. Sprite.

This is where the problem comes in, Mr. President. There are four vending machines in our building. They contain Coke, Diet Coke, Mountain Dew, Sunkist, Ginger Ale, and A&W Root Beer. I didn't mention Sprite, because the vending machines don't have it. That means that I have to get into my car and drive to the local convenience store just to fulfill a need that my employer won't.

Clearly, this is blatant racism. Several surveys (ok, just me talking to a few friends) have shown that the Darker Populace opts for the clear, white-colored drinks, while the Paler Populace prefers sodas that are dark in color. By keeping nothing but dark sodas in the vending machine, my employer is telling me that it does not care about the needs of my people.

I tried to take matters into my own hands. I told my supervisor about my desires and he looked at me like I was crazy, until I gave him a power point presentation on how the Darker Populace was being wronged. Clearly, the Sprite executives know their target audience has a darker hue. That's why we get commercials like this, this, this, and my personal favorite, this. He agreed that I had a point, but made no effort to address my needs. My four Darker Populace coworkers gave up after that.

You'll be proud to know that I didn't stop there, Mr. President. Oh, no. I could hear the ancestors calling out to me -- the same ancestors who did bus boycotts, sit ins and historic marches to address injustices. It was then that I decided to stage my own acts of civil disobedience. When my supervisor asked me why I was late to work, I said it was because I couldn't get going in the morning without my Sprite. When I was asked to help a coworker with an assignment, I refused to do so because this was a person who liked to antagonize me by drinking Coke all day long. And when the workers came to refill the vending machine, I plastered myself against it and sang a loud rendition of 'We Shall Overcome.'

Things got a little ugly after that. Let's just say I was sent home and my future with my company is dependent on weekly visits with a psychiatrist. Whatever, they can keep that job. But here's where I need your help. Do you think you can hook a sista up with one of those cabinet positions you've been filling on the regular? Surely I can get a Sprite at the White House! Can't I?

Peace and love,


Strength/Courage/Wisdom



Photo from http://www.globalgiants.com/archives/media/SpriteCan.jpg