Two for one coontact where Mrs. S works
She took yesterday off and had to bring something in on our way to breakfast. It's a fairly secure facility. You need an access card to open the front door, a security guard is inside, and a guard at the parking lot entrance is supposed to check for parking passes. The she-nig on duty didn't even look up at us, like any nigger sow being too buried in its sail form. There could be vans of terrorists driving through, and it would still be screaming about a bad weave it just got.
I told Mrs. S she needs to complain about the lack of security, but she's too laid back. A while back she told me that she thought it was strange when the car ahead of her stopped at the parking lot checkpoint, and a few niggers got out to go inside the guard shack, while presumably another nigger drove the car into the lot. I asked if she told her supervisor, or anybody, but she didn't. She didn't want to stir anything up over possibly nothing. Sometimes I really wonder about her, what the hell it will take to make her alert somebody over clearly suspicious activity.
So we drove through the parking lot and had to go around a tall, rail thin "Buck or sow" candidate. It pisses me off enough when humans don't have enough common sense to walk to the side so cars can get by. I said, "Where did that thing come from?" "Oh, she's new." Great, Mrs. S has a new nigger at work? "She has a white husband and they have three children." That's the point where I don't want to hear any more.
