Waking up in San Antonio is culture shock compared to Dallas. Let me see if I can formulate a decent example.

San Antonio, being a historically prideful city closer to the Mexican border, my television would have me believe that it’s overrun with chaos. It saw none of that.

I’m certain my hotel is in what my “cracker-brethren” would refer to as the “bad” part of town. What I saw were families eating at food trucks, children playing, and a beautiful, mainstream American misunderstood culture minding its own business. I met no panhandlers, and felt zero danger. I saw hordes of Hispanic men on their way to do real work. Outside of town, I saw no MAGA advertisements.

In Dallas, if I were to attempt the same conditions, I would find the white attempt to gentrify and erase the Hispanic population, dodge two bullets, and get hit up for money by obvious scammers on the way in and out of the gas station. I see hordes of Hispanic men buying a 3-pack of tall-boys for a long day of standing on the corner. Let’s not forget the pregnant addict screaming at the cashier while scratching off a lotto ticket with her one good tooth. Outside of Dallas, the Klan is alive and well. Trust me on this.

See the good, but stay prepped for the bad. Not a bad way to live rather than always meeting everything and everyone with the absolute worst expectations. Deny the Caucasian devils on cable news. The mask is slipping, and it’s ugly AF, folks. Be strong.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.