I Think You're Totally Wrong by David Shields Read Free Book Online Page A

“Oh, I took Darryl or Tyrone or James or Sniper to the Green Lake Tavern for a couple of beers.” And she’d say, “Who paid?” I’d say, “It was my invite.” She’d say, “They ever invite you? They’re taking advantage of you, aren’t they?” I’d tell her I didn’t care, and that I was new. If you invite, you pick up the check.
    Terry’s pregnant, and she has her three-month appointment. I’m playing basketball, and Tyrone asks me if I’m up for a beer. First time I get an invite. Hell yeah. It felt cool. We’re on court, winding down, and all of a sudden I see Terry on the sideline.
    DAVID: And she’s pregnant?
    CALEB: This is the first time she’s ever watched me play. Game ends, I go to the sideline, and she says, “I miscarried.”
    DAVID: Oh my god.
    CALEB: Tears and hugs. We go have a cup of coffee near Green Lake, and I tell her we’ll try again. She tells me we have to wait at least six weeks. They have to perform this procedure to remove the remnants of the fetus. On the way back, in the parking lot, there’s Tyrone, and he’s like, “What’s up? We gonna have that beer?” I look at Terry, and she says, “I’ll meet you at home. You do what you want.”
    DAVID: Did Tyrone know your wife had miscarried?
    CALEB: Not yet. Terry has gone to her car, and I’m thinking, well, I feel like a beer, and what more can I say? I’ve done my duty. So I go with Tyrone.
    DAVID: You’re not serious.
    CALEB: Instead of walking to a nearby tavern, we hop in his car and he drives to this mini-mart, buys a twelve-pack, goes back to the Green Lake parking lot, yells to a couple of his homeys, they get in the car, and we’re all drinking beer behind tinted windows, and then one of the guys pulls out some dope and loads a bowl. I’m thinking, gee, we’re in public, I could get busted, my wife’s home wondering where I am after a miscarriage, and I’m more worried about making contact with some dudes. This is fucked up.
    Tyrone says, “What’s up, Caleb? You’re silent.” I say, “Tyrone, sorry, I’m tripping. My wife just had a miscarriage.” So Tyrone tells me about his sister and how she had a stillbirth and that I better get home. I say, “Yeah.”
    In my version of the story I dawdle twenty minutes. Terry calls it an hour and a half. A couple weeks later I’m playing, she comes by, and Tyrone’s on the sideline and starts chatting her up, asking if she’s watching her “boyfriend.” Anyway, she hasn’t forgotten.
    DAVID: Obviously, it was a serious misstep.
    CALEB: I can see us as eighty-year-old grandparents and she’ll say, “Remember when I miscarried and you chose beer with Tyrone over coming home to me?”
    DAVID: To me, the most interesting aspect of the whole thing is your obsession with entrée into black culture. You wanted to drink a beer with Tyrone, so you shunned Terry. If it had been a white guy, you wouldn’t have gone. You wouldn’t have felt the same pressure.
    CALEB: I’ve thought about that. I made a conscious decision to get into the culture. I became a regular at Green Lake. I started pushing back. I got sick of the way white guyswould get bullied and took it. I didn’t want to be like that. When I first started playing there, they’re choosing teams and no one picks me, so I call next, and this other guy says, “No, I got next.” I say, “We’ll run together, then.” He says no. Fourteen guys in the gym and ten are playing. I say, “You’re not going to pick me up? My game ain’t that bad.” He says no. This one guy, Nando, says, “Hey, some guys don’t pick up white guys.” I say, “What if I was six-foot-six?” Nando says, “Wouldn’t matter.”
    DAVID: Nando just pulled you aside and told you