¨Que Pasa, Negro?!¨

Maybe the funniest moment in B.A. so far came when G, Georgia and I were out walking one night. We were in ¨Palermo Hollywood¨, a trendy part of the city filled with overpriced bars and ¨anorexic bitches¨. We were between bars and talking about the weird subtle ways of racial discrimination in Latin American countries. I was telling Georgia about how in Puerto Rico the darker skinned people were considered ¨Black¨ and the lighter, more European people were ¨White¨.
¨But, like in the states,¨ I went on, ¨people don't throw those terms around. Unless-¨
A group of young guys was passing us and, of course, hollering at the white girls- ¨Hola Chicas!¨
I continued, totally unaware. ¨-unless they´re like ´QUE PASA, NEGRO?!¨ with each other.¨
The guy who had been hollering sputtered and recoiled, like ¨Los sientos!¨-¨I´m sorry.¨
My reading had been convincing enough to make them think they had just hit on the hoes of an unlikely looking short white Puerto Rican gangster on vacation and they looked unnerved.
We laughed though, about how they probably bragged afterwards and felt so much street cred for having been called a ¨Negro¨.