June 19, 2025 • 12 mins
This week we meet Guy. Guy needs underwear. Heads for the mall. Where some white kids get tangled up with some black kids. The N-word careens around the food court. One kid pushes another kid. Fists fly. Blood spills.
The cops arrive. Put the white kid in a chair, the black kid on the floor. Tempers flare. Guns drawn.
What’s Guy going to do? What’s Guy going to say?
See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:04):
Welcome to the ten Minute Storyteller. That's me Bill Simpson,
your host, narrator and author. We hear at the ten
minute Storyteller endeavor to entertain you with tall tales or
rendered swiftly and with the utmost empathy. We pledge to
(00:25):
pack as much entertainment, emotion, and exploration into the human
condition as ten minutes will permit. Mini novels on steroids.
This week we meet guy Guy needs underwear, heads for
them all. Where some white kids get tangled up with
(00:48):
some black kids the n word koreem's around the food court.
One kid pushes another kid, fists fly, blood spills. The
cops arrive, put the white kid in a chair, the
black kid on the floor. Tempers flare, Guns are drawn.
What's guy going to do? What's guy going to say?
(01:17):
The racist guy takes the afternoon off and goes to
Express Lube to have the oil changed in his ram.
On the way back, he passes the mall. He hates
the mall, never goes, hates shopping for everything but trucks,
boats and fishing gear. But he needs socks and underwear,
(01:41):
so he stops, goes into Macy's straight to where the
socks and underwear. Used to be not here, nothing here
now but racks and racks of those puffy jackets that
weigh no more than a dollar bill. He bought one
of those a couple of years ago, bright orange, for
when he walks then at night, so they don't get
(02:02):
run over. He must look a little bit lost because
he hears a lady, a sales clerk, asks can I
help you? He looks around and sees a black woman,
an older black woman, not old, just older, but good looking.
A good looking older black woman, slim and trim, very nice, smile,
(02:25):
hair straight and pulled back hard, showing off the smooth,
the milk chocolate skin of her pretty face. Uh, socks
and underwear, He says, it used to be right here.
Oh god, that was ages ago. She says, follow me, Hey,
I'd follow you anywhere. Guy says, because that's the kind
(02:47):
of crack Guy's been making to the pretty ladies since
middle school. Walking ahead, not looking at him, She snaps back,
what's the matter with you saying that to me when
you've got a ring on your finger? Hey, Guy's heard worse,
way worse. Once he asked this black check if she'd
ever thought of sleeping with a white guy, and she
(03:10):
looked him up and down and said, not one as
ugly as you. Ouch, he said, And he says it again,
but then adds, hey, listen for you. I'd happily take
that ring off my finger and hide it in my jeans.
She starts to turn and say something, but decides probably
(03:31):
best to stay quiet instead. She sighs, points to the
socks and underwear department, and walks away. Guy picks out
what he wants, pays, then decides to go upstairs and
get one of those big soft pretzels that you dip,
and Mustard hasn't had one since since he can't remember.
(03:52):
When a little crowded up at the food court he
has to wait in line. While waiting, he watches these
four young punks be bopping around with their baseball caps
turned brim backwards, listening to some crappy street jive music
way too loud on one of those bluetooth speakers hanging
(04:13):
off the lead punk's belt. Loop Guy. He'd like to
hassle them, tell them to turn the goddamn thing down,
but decides to just get his soft pretzel and get
out a dodge in his dodge, I mean, who needs
the trouble guy doesn't need the trouble. Let the mall
security guys handle it or the cops. I'm staying disengaged.
(04:40):
He reaches the front of the line, orders a pretzel
with mustard and a coke, swipes his visa card, gets
his booty, turns to go, figures he'll eit in the
truck with Spotify playing some Van Halen or bon Jovi
or Pearl Jam and not too loud the food cord.
(05:01):
He again spots the four dipwads, three of them scrawny,
acne faced a holes, following their leader, a muscled up
type wearing a two tight litl Zan sleeveless T shirt.
They want hot dogs Coney Island Franks, and they don't
feel like waiting in line to get them. They push
and shove and intimidate their way to the front, well
(05:26):
almost to the front. A little black kid can't be
more than four and a half feet tall, eight or
nine years old, clutching a ten dollars bill in his fist,
says in a high, squeaky voice, Hey, come on, man,
wait your turn. I've been waiting and you got to
wait too. Lil Zan's sleeveless tea depicts a giant hand
(05:48):
with a long middle finger flashing the bird very classy.
He says in his own squeaky voice, Hey wait your turn.
I've been waiting, and you gotta wait too. His three
scrawny flunkies get a big chuckle out of him mocking
the little black kid, and that's when this bigger black
kid as big as Lil Zan but not quite as
(06:11):
muscled up, rolls onto the scene and says, hey, yo, dude,
you don't be messing with my little brother man little brother. Huh, yeah,
that's right, little brother, and he been waiting a while
to get himself a dog, so you just back off
and let that boy alone. Lil Zan turns to his
buds and says, amos here thinks we should be nice
(06:31):
and let the little bro touch my dog. And he
turns and snatches that ten dollars bill out of the
little black Kid's hand, which causes Big Bro to give
Lil Zan a shove, causing litl Zan to immediately return
the favor, and they go back and forth several times,
pushing and shoving. The little black kid takes his brother's
(06:52):
hand tries to lead him away. Hey, ain't nothing good, Jerome,
Ain't nothing good going to happen here, Jerome, come on,
come on, let's go. That's when Lil Zan lets fly
with a flurry of f bombs and n words, all
strung together in one long racist rant, which ends the
shoving and sets in motion a full fledged battle, a
(07:15):
bare knuckled brawl. Both Jerome and Lil Zan land solid
punches to the face, head, and chest. Some folks, women
mostly scream for them to stop fighting. Others, mostly boys
and a few young men, cheer the fighters on. They
want them to keep on pound in each other. A
(07:35):
ring of spectators closes in around the brawlers. Blood flies.
Guy well, guy doesn't do dick, He just stands there, disengaged.
Lil Zan and Jerome battle on and off the floor,
kicking and swinging wildly, trying to tear each other's heads off.
And then the whistles, police whistles, and the sound of
(07:57):
heavy running. Two cops, not Maulk but the real thing,
sprint onto the scene. Spectators make way. A gap opens
in the circle. The cops, two good sized white guys
with guns holstered on their hips, grab the two teenagers
and pull them apart. The cops shove the white kid
(08:18):
into a chair and tell them not to move. Then
they push the black kid face down onto the grungy
mall floor, wrench his arms behind his back, and lickety
split cuff the kid's wrists together. Someone in the crowd,
a woman, a young white woman, doesn't like it, not
one bit. She shouts at the cops, Hey, yo, what
(08:39):
are you doing? What's up with that? The black kid
didn't do anything. That wise ass white kid started all
the trouble. Cuff his obnoxious ass, not the black kids.
Others chime in with similar comments. Guy, he doesn't say
a word. Jerome squirms around on the floor and lets
flow his own flurry of obscenities. The cops pin him
(09:03):
down with plenty of vim and vigor. The one big
bruiser has him by the legs, and the other one
has a knee planted firmly in the middle of Jerome's back.
The little brother beats on the shoulders of the cop
holding his big brother's legs. Leave him alone, man, come on,
leave him alone, Leave my brother alone. He ain't done nothing.
(09:24):
The cop swats the little black kid away. The kid
falls back, smacks his head on the floor comes up.
Woozy Guy steps forward, but quickly steps back. The cops
drip sweat. These are small town cops who mostly do
traffic stops and domestic violence calls. They're in way over
(09:46):
their heads. One of them shouts into the radio attached
to his vest, Patrol three, requesting backup mall, third floor
food court, Back up, now, back up now. Blood runs
from Jerome's nose and mouth and from a gash above
his left eye. He's cursing and squirming and bleeding all
over the floor while Lil Zan sits there smirking. A
(10:09):
woman suddenly screams, Jerome, Jerome. Her shouts come from some distance,
but she's obviously closing fast. A couple seconds later she
reaches the scene. It's the black woman who helped guy
with the socks and underwear, the one he made the
cracks to about following her anywhere and taking his ring off.
(10:30):
What in God's name? She screams, what are you doing
to my boy? She reaches into the handbag hanging over
her shoulder. The big white cop, with his knee on
Jerome's back, pulls his handgun and points it at the
black woman's chest. The crowd, having witnessed this scene many
times before, instantly grows quiet, waits for the blast, waits
(10:54):
for the black woman to clutch her chest and fall
over dead. Rome's mother pulls a white cotton handkerchief out
of that handbag and says, fool, you put that gun
away before you hurt someone, and she bends down and
begins to wipe the blood from her injured son's face.
(11:16):
Appetite gone guy tosses the pretzel and coke into the trash.
He walks away, ashamed, Ashamed because he did nothing, said nothing,
is nothing, Ashamed because he's a coward, and because he
knows damn well he never would have made those cracks
(11:41):
to a white woman. Thanks for listening to this original
audio presentation of the racist narrated by the author. If
you enjoy today's story, please take a few seconds to rate, review,
(12:05):
and subscribe to this podcast, and go to Thomas William
Simpson dot com for additional information about the author and
to view his extensive canon. The Ten Minute Storyteller is
produced by Andrew Pliglisi and Josh Klani and is part
of the Elvis Duran podcast Network in partnership with iHeart Productions.
(12:31):
Until next time. This is Bill Simpson, your ten minute storyteller.
Welcome to the ten Minute Storyteller. That's me Bill Simpson,
your host, narrator and author. We hear at the ten
minute Storyteller endeavor to entertain you with tall tales or
rendered swiftly and with the utmost empathy. We pledge to
(00:25):
pack as much entertainment, emotion, and exploration into the human
condition as ten minutes will permit. Mini novels on steroids.
This week we meet guy Guy needs underwear, heads for
them all. Where some white kids get tangled up with
(00:48):
some black kids the n word koreem's around the food court.
One kid pushes another kid, fists fly, blood spills. The
cops arrive, put the white kid in a chair, the
black kid on the floor. Tempers flare, Guns are drawn.
What's guy going to do? What's guy going to say?
(01:17):
The racist guy takes the afternoon off and goes to
Express Lube to have the oil changed in his ram.
On the way back, he passes the mall. He hates
the mall, never goes, hates shopping for everything but trucks,
boats and fishing gear. But he needs socks and underwear,
(01:41):
so he stops, goes into Macy's straight to where the
socks and underwear. Used to be not here, nothing here
now but racks and racks of those puffy jackets that
weigh no more than a dollar bill. He bought one
of those a couple of years ago, bright orange, for
when he walks then at night, so they don't get
(02:02):
run over. He must look a little bit lost because
he hears a lady, a sales clerk, asks can I
help you? He looks around and sees a black woman,
an older black woman, not old, just older, but good looking.
A good looking older black woman, slim and trim, very nice, smile,
(02:25):
hair straight and pulled back hard, showing off the smooth,
the milk chocolate skin of her pretty face. Uh, socks
and underwear, He says, it used to be right here.
Oh god, that was ages ago. She says, follow me, Hey,
I'd follow you anywhere. Guy says, because that's the kind
(02:47):
of crack Guy's been making to the pretty ladies since
middle school. Walking ahead, not looking at him, She snaps back,
what's the matter with you saying that to me when
you've got a ring on your finger? Hey, Guy's heard worse,
way worse. Once he asked this black check if she'd
ever thought of sleeping with a white guy, and she
(03:10):
looked him up and down and said, not one as
ugly as you. Ouch, he said, And he says it again,
but then adds, hey, listen for you. I'd happily take
that ring off my finger and hide it in my jeans.
She starts to turn and say something, but decides probably
(03:31):
best to stay quiet instead. She sighs, points to the
socks and underwear department, and walks away. Guy picks out
what he wants, pays, then decides to go upstairs and
get one of those big soft pretzels that you dip,
and Mustard hasn't had one since since he can't remember.
(03:52):
When a little crowded up at the food court he
has to wait in line. While waiting, he watches these
four young punks be bopping around with their baseball caps
turned brim backwards, listening to some crappy street jive music
way too loud on one of those bluetooth speakers hanging
(04:13):
off the lead punk's belt. Loop Guy. He'd like to
hassle them, tell them to turn the goddamn thing down,
but decides to just get his soft pretzel and get
out a dodge in his dodge, I mean, who needs
the trouble guy doesn't need the trouble. Let the mall
security guys handle it or the cops. I'm staying disengaged.
(04:40):
He reaches the front of the line, orders a pretzel
with mustard and a coke, swipes his visa card, gets
his booty, turns to go, figures he'll eit in the
truck with Spotify playing some Van Halen or bon Jovi
or Pearl Jam and not too loud the food cord.
(05:01):
He again spots the four dipwads, three of them scrawny,
acne faced a holes, following their leader, a muscled up
type wearing a two tight litl Zan sleeveless T shirt.
They want hot dogs Coney Island Franks, and they don't
feel like waiting in line to get them. They push
and shove and intimidate their way to the front, well
(05:26):
almost to the front. A little black kid can't be
more than four and a half feet tall, eight or
nine years old, clutching a ten dollars bill in his fist,
says in a high, squeaky voice, Hey, come on, man,
wait your turn. I've been waiting and you got to
wait too. Lil Zan's sleeveless tea depicts a giant hand
(05:48):
with a long middle finger flashing the bird very classy.
He says in his own squeaky voice, Hey wait your turn.
I've been waiting, and you gotta wait too. His three
scrawny flunkies get a big chuckle out of him mocking
the little black kid, and that's when this bigger black
kid as big as Lil Zan but not quite as
(06:11):
muscled up, rolls onto the scene and says, hey, yo, dude,
you don't be messing with my little brother man little brother. Huh, yeah,
that's right, little brother, and he been waiting a while
to get himself a dog, so you just back off
and let that boy alone. Lil Zan turns to his
buds and says, amos here thinks we should be nice
(06:31):
and let the little bro touch my dog. And he
turns and snatches that ten dollars bill out of the
little black Kid's hand, which causes Big Bro to give
Lil Zan a shove, causing litl Zan to immediately return
the favor, and they go back and forth several times,
pushing and shoving. The little black kid takes his brother's
(06:52):
hand tries to lead him away. Hey, ain't nothing good, Jerome,
Ain't nothing good going to happen here, Jerome, come on,
come on, let's go. That's when Lil Zan lets fly
with a flurry of f bombs and n words, all
strung together in one long racist rant, which ends the
shoving and sets in motion a full fledged battle, a
(07:15):
bare knuckled brawl. Both Jerome and Lil Zan land solid
punches to the face, head, and chest. Some folks, women
mostly scream for them to stop fighting. Others, mostly boys
and a few young men, cheer the fighters on. They
want them to keep on pound in each other. A
(07:35):
ring of spectators closes in around the brawlers. Blood flies.
Guy well, guy doesn't do dick, He just stands there, disengaged.
Lil Zan and Jerome battle on and off the floor,
kicking and swinging wildly, trying to tear each other's heads off.
And then the whistles, police whistles, and the sound of
(07:57):
heavy running. Two cops, not Maulk but the real thing,
sprint onto the scene. Spectators make way. A gap opens
in the circle. The cops, two good sized white guys
with guns holstered on their hips, grab the two teenagers
and pull them apart. The cops shove the white kid
(08:18):
into a chair and tell them not to move. Then
they push the black kid face down onto the grungy
mall floor, wrench his arms behind his back, and lickety
split cuff the kid's wrists together. Someone in the crowd,
a woman, a young white woman, doesn't like it, not
one bit. She shouts at the cops, Hey, yo, what
(08:39):
are you doing? What's up with that? The black kid
didn't do anything. That wise ass white kid started all
the trouble. Cuff his obnoxious ass, not the black kids.
Others chime in with similar comments. Guy, he doesn't say
a word. Jerome squirms around on the floor and lets
flow his own flurry of obscenities. The cops pin him
(09:03):
down with plenty of vim and vigor. The one big
bruiser has him by the legs, and the other one
has a knee planted firmly in the middle of Jerome's back.
The little brother beats on the shoulders of the cop
holding his big brother's legs. Leave him alone, man, come on,
leave him alone, Leave my brother alone. He ain't done nothing.
(09:24):
The cop swats the little black kid away. The kid
falls back, smacks his head on the floor comes up.
Woozy Guy steps forward, but quickly steps back. The cops
drip sweat. These are small town cops who mostly do
traffic stops and domestic violence calls. They're in way over
(09:46):
their heads. One of them shouts into the radio attached
to his vest, Patrol three, requesting backup mall, third floor
food court, Back up, now, back up now. Blood runs
from Jerome's nose and mouth and from a gash above
his left eye. He's cursing and squirming and bleeding all
over the floor while Lil Zan sits there smirking. A
(10:09):
woman suddenly screams, Jerome, Jerome. Her shouts come from some distance,
but she's obviously closing fast. A couple seconds later she
reaches the scene. It's the black woman who helped guy
with the socks and underwear, the one he made the
cracks to about following her anywhere and taking his ring off.
(10:30):
What in God's name? She screams, what are you doing
to my boy? She reaches into the handbag hanging over
her shoulder. The big white cop, with his knee on
Jerome's back, pulls his handgun and points it at the
black woman's chest. The crowd, having witnessed this scene many
times before, instantly grows quiet, waits for the blast, waits
(10:54):
for the black woman to clutch her chest and fall
over dead. Rome's mother pulls a white cotton handkerchief out
of that handbag and says, fool, you put that gun
away before you hurt someone, and she bends down and
begins to wipe the blood from her injured son's face.
(11:16):
Appetite gone guy tosses the pretzel and coke into the trash.
He walks away, ashamed, Ashamed because he did nothing, said nothing,
is nothing, Ashamed because he's a coward, and because he
knows damn well he never would have made those cracks
(11:41):
to a white woman. Thanks for listening to this original
audio presentation of the racist narrated by the author. If
you enjoy today's story, please take a few seconds to rate, review,
(12:05):
and subscribe to this podcast, and go to Thomas William
Simpson dot com for additional information about the author and
to view his extensive canon. The Ten Minute Storyteller is
produced by Andrew Pliglisi and Josh Klani and is part
of the Elvis Duran podcast Network in partnership with iHeart Productions.
(12:31):
Until next time. This is Bill Simpson, your ten minute storyteller.
Host
Bill Simpson
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