Finding Humour in Racist Ignorance
Who says one cannot find humour, albeit of a bizarre kind, in racism?
As incontrolable laughter wracked our ribs and brought tears streaming down our cheeks, my friend Helen and I were aware that we were drawing looks of interest from those around us. Some were amused looks; others were envious, while others still, were looks of annoyance. These after all were the streets of Vienna (the stately and classical capital of Austria) where overt display of emotion was a thing reserved only to those “tiresome foreigners who have come to steal our jobs and deplete our social amenities.”
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