First Posted: 3/25/2013

Black people are way cooler than white people. It’s just a fact. We can’t dance, we can’t jump, and we can’t get Mariah Carey to admit she’s one of us. That’s why I performed in the Black Student Union’s annual talent show when I was a freshman in college, Mom and Dad. I wanted to make some cooler friends.

While walking through the Student Union with my pledge brother, Eddie, I grabbed a flyer announcing an upcoming talent show.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eddie said and sighed after noticing the event was sponsored by the Black Student Union.

“What?” I questioned. “This is my chance to be the token white guy in an all African- American entourage. Don’t f—k this up for me!”

The fact that I took jungle fever to another level was no secret to my friends. They were well aware that I ached to be in a social circle with more cultural diversity, but didn’t take me seriously when I assured them that once I started rollin’ with my homies, I would make like a recovering drug addict shying away from their bad influences and cut all the Caucasian friends out of my life. Therefore, this talent show was my chance to be taken seriously.

“I think you’re the only white person performing tonight,” suggested one of my friends on the night of the show.

“I hope so,” I shuddered. “This is my moment.”

When it was time for my performance, I began singing a song about how small our school’s town was, lyrics by yours truly. While rolling on the ground singing the chorus, smoke covered the stage.

“They love me so much they turned on the fog machine!” I thought to myself.

It wasn’t until a crowd of coughing students started gagging their way to the exit that I realized it wasn’t a fog machine. Someone backstage sprayed fire extinguishers from underneath the stage curtain!

A cloud of chemicals flooded the auditorium. I quickly realized that maybe the organization’s members were not as welcoming to the idea of a token white friend as I anticipated.

After getting charged for two fire extinguishers, and with an ambulance bill from an asthmatic student in attendance that passed out, I learned the organization bitterly accused me of being responsible for the stunt as they were banned from ever hosting a talent show again. I then realized maybe making new friends isn’t what I was meant to do at that talent show, but instead realize that I’m a party rocker, showstopper.