Another UnAppreciative Illegal Dreamer

Saturday past, my wife and I stopped at a produce market known for its selection of exotic fruits, produce, and flora. The high quality exotic fresh produce from many parts of the world, make the produce market a virtual melting pot of international shoppers now living in the area.

The store was bustling with shoppers but the atmosphere was light and cordial. As I went to examine the prickly pears and Lychee, my wife started to make a beeline for the flora. I asked her to wait a moment because I had forgotten my glasses and needed her to read the small letters. A woman who was also checking the pears laughed out loud and said, “Oh my goodness you sound just like my husband. He is always asking me to do the same thing.” She called to her husband, he walked over and a pleasant conversation ensued with he and I bearing the brunt of the jokes that followed.

I resisted my initial urge to snatch the little snot-nose and throw him back to Nogales, or wherever town he snuck across the border from.

Mychal Massie

As I was looking at dates, my wife tapped me to slide down so another woman could reach the figs. The woman saw my “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) hat and proceeded to tell us she was a huge President Trump supporter.

My wife and I made our way to the oyster mushrooms, hot peppers, rapini, spinach, and then headed to the register. Note that during the 30 minutes or so we had been in the store there was not a hint of acrimony or disrespect observed. That is until we made our way to the register.

The cashier, a cocky smart-mouth who probably had been set to cash in on DACA until President Trump won, snarled at me through a heavy Mexican accent: “You need to take that hat off sir.”

He was referring to my MAGA hat. I resisted my initial urge to snatch the little snot-nose and throw him back to Nogales, or wherever town he snuck across the border from. I about turning him into a solo nonstop flight with my fingermarks around the scruff of his neck where I would have grabbed him, and with my size 14-shoe print imprinted firmly upon his behind as the shipping label. But I restrained myself.

I asked: “Why I should do that,” and he ignorantly said: “He sold us out to the Russians.” He went on to say that the President wasn’t a “nice person.” Apparently enforcing the sovereign laws of our nation makes President Trump not a “nice person” to illegal aliens. The depth of abject ignorance he exhibited and the venom in his voice was stunning. He glared with vitriol at the other shoppers; but it was clear that I was the bane of his existence that day.

As I said the store was crowded but the atmosphere was light and pleasant amongst the shoppers. But the cocky barely educated probably DACA illegal was brimming with hate. I considered responding that even if it were true, and it’s not of course, that President Trump sold us out to the Russians, how did that affect him since I doubted that he was a legal citizen. But realizing you can’t fix stupid; I allowed he was probably upset because he could no longer hide behind DACA. So I said there wasn’t time for me to explain how foolishly wrong he was nor could I explain using single syllable words so someone with obvious intellectual prowess could understand. Missing my sarcasm, he snarled that I was right.

I wanted to tell the young man that a person who doesn’t tell the truth is a liar. And that if he had lied to be in “my” country it made him a liar. I wanted to say that if he was here illegally, as I am certain that he was, that made him a criminal, a thief and a liar because he was stealing services and benefits that he was not entitled to. I wanted to go over the penalties I would face if I did not follow the strict legal code for immigration to his country. I wanted to tell him that if for some unfathomable reason I decided to leave Florida and live in Mexico, at least I would be an asset to the country. Whereas he offered nothing to America but an ongoing criminal enterprise of theft of services, identities, not to mention the pillaging of taxpayer resources by having babies in our country.

My wife and I agreed that the snot-nose vividly represents the cultural divide. Shoppers in the market were courteous to one another and cordially spoke to people they did not know. We had observed similar interaction amongst the shoppers on other occasions that we visited that market.

But the person who should have been down on his knees kissing the pavement and praising God for being here (I’m sure illegally), was filled with hate and vitriol.

It would be idiotic to think for a moment that young man was an isolated incident. I would say multiply him by millions and you have some idea of the number of haters we have in our country illegally.

He was not grateful to be here, he was not thankful for the services and roof over his head that would in no way be commensurate if he were still back in Mexico.

And yet this is the type of individuals Paul Ryan, George W. Bush, Obama and their progressive Democrat and Republican sellouts want to give free admission to in our country. They’re fighting against President Trump because they want open borders and to let haters like this young man just cross over.

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Mychal Massie

About the Author

Mychal Massie

Mychal S. Massie is an ordained minister who spent 13 years in full-time Christian Ministry. Today he serves as founder and Chairman of the Racial Policy Center (RPC), a think tank he officially founded in September 2015. RPC advocates for a colorblind society. He was founder and president of the non-profit “In His Name Ministries.” He is the former National Chairman of a conservative Capitol Hill think tank; and a former member of the think tank National Center for Public Policy Research. Read entire bio here

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