A series of incidents in my apartment building, most recently the attempted rape of a hooker in our laundry room, prompted our building manager to call a meeting in our courtyard to discuss ways to increase security.

For one French speaking neighbor, it was a chance to sling accusations of racism toward people in our building and Americans in general.  Because of this, my french neighbor is the latest “Trollop Watch” sighting for 2009.

At the meeting, one man was translating in Spanish for the non-English speaking residents.  He was describing the man that attempted the hooker rape.  He was black, so he used the Spanish word for it, “negro.”

Trollop interrupted and began screaming at the translator, saying he was using the N-Word and stereotyping the street toughs who have wreaked havoc in our fair community.

Several people of varying races defended the translator, but she continued.

“I speak french and I know a little Spanish, and I know what that word means,” she said condescendingly.

Her claim was that since a similar sounding word in French was derogatory, that the Spanish version of the word meant the same thing.

She threw a fit and had to be calmed down.  The meeting continued and she was visibly upset, unaware of her own ignorance as she slandered people she barely knew.

After the meeting, she started up again, speaking loudly to the manager within 6 feet of me.  I took it upon myself to put this trollop in her place.

“Hey, I took Spanish one in 9th grade, and the ‘negro’ means the color black.  It’s not derogatory,” I said.
“Well that’s terrific for you,” the trollop replied with her french drawl.
“I just wanted you to know that you’re wrong,” I said.

She proceeded to go into a tirade about people in this building using racist terms before, and how Americans in Los Angeles and in general are constantly racist and she has had enough of it.

It apparently hasn’t occurred to her that she lives in one of the most liberal cities in the United States; nor that she always has the option to move back to France.  She said that she could not have this conversation with me and the handful of others in the courtyard, that she had to have a private discussion with our building manager.

“It was really nice to meet you.  You’ve made a great first impression,” I said.  She exploded.
“Why are you being a dick to me?” she asked.
“Lady, you’re the one being a dick,” I said.

Her rage filled as our building manager played peacemaker and took her out of the conversation.  They took a seat on the sidewalk next to our courtyard and had a 30 minute discussion and solved the problem of race relations, both in our building and throughout the world.