A bunch of us went to a gay club last night for drinks, as our crowd does most Friday nights, then on to dinner. And one of our party started telling tasteless dead Michael Jackson jokes, which I refused to laugh at, some of the very same ones I've read in threads here recently.
And I frowned and did my best, without destroying long-time relationships, to express my disapproval, as did some others in our party. But others were amused, everyone already moderately blitzed, and the stupidity went on for a bit.
A party of Black guys was seated right next to me, in a long upholstered bench seat that runs the whole length of a wall, if any of you know the Alibi in Wilton Manors. And I could read the displeasure in their faces overhearing this, but they said nothing.
I was embarrassed and uncomfortable. I knew it wasn't the moment to force a confrontation, with alcohol the hidden element behind my friends, and the music blaring. I'll choose a quieter and more sober moment, when I'll get them to admit what a great talent Jackson was, what a terrible tragedy this is, what a loss has been suffered. And I doubt they'll tell any more tasteless jokes about it again.