It was well before daybreak a few weeks ago when I got a call from the Home for Retired Racial Stereotypes.
“White, you need to get over here right away,” Buckwheat insisted. “I’m being stalked.”
When I arrived a few minutes later, Buckwheat was hollering into his telephone.
“How many times does I have to tell you not to call me anymore? I ain’t interested!” the diminutive Our Gang character squeaked in a frustrated tone before slamming down the phone.
“Those pestering calls from telemarketers certainly can be annoying,” I commented. “You should get on the no-call list.”
“I wish it was that simple,” Buckwheat said, sighing and running a hand through his pigtails. “But that Ginni just won’t leave me alone. She just keep calling and calling.”
“Who’s Ginni?” I asked.
Before Buckwheat could reply, the phone rang again. “You get it this time, and if it’s Ginni, tell her I ain’t available,” Buckwheat insisted.
When I answered the call, a woman began to rant in a singsong voice. “Buckwheat, this is Ginni. I just wanted to reach across the airwaves and the years and ask you to consider something …”