looking for sex has always been about more than physical gratification for me because often i am rewarded with an amusing or provocative anecdote . . . in the Meatrack over the weekend i came upon a slim black man in a lime green box cut bathing suit . . . he had cornrows and braids, the kind u rarely see in a place where African Americans are no more plentiful than raisins in rice pudding . . . we hooked up and when he pulled a condom out of his fanny pack, i noticed the packaging was unlike your standard Trojan and after he unwrapped the foil, i saw that the latex was as dark as his skin . . . he said i do all the work, mon after some pretty good sex . . . and then Aloe (yes, like the plant) asked me if i wanted to join him on his blanket for a slice of watermelon. . . sugar baby watermelon , he added, very sweet . . . how is a politically correct slut supposed to react to such an offer? . . . because he was Jamaican i knew he probably never had suffered the indignity of the stereotype . . . i declined, mostly because experience has taught me to separate the Meatrack from the rest of my life but was giggling all the way back home and telling my housemates the story racist? . . . M, my culturally clueless French housemate, later admitted he didn't even understand what everyone found so funny until he came across an article in the current issue of Gourmet entitled "Pride and Prejudice" . . . sometimes watching what you eat has nothing to do with your waistline teased the subhead . . . the black author described the torture she put herself through before eating watermelon in public for the first time . . . American hang ups do make eating and sex far more complicated than they should be . . . . and i haven't even touched the topic of cock size . . . just let it be said that if Aloe had conformed to that particular stereotype, i would not have allowed him to stick his thing where the sun don't shine!