As I was leaving a little hole-in-the-wall knife store in the smaller of the two local malls the other day, I noticed a cop and a security guard hovering about in the corridor.  Following their gazes, I saw they were monitoring five girls, who ranged in age from preteen to teen.  It was then that I realized the girls were shouting so loudly that you could hear them throughout the mall.

Pumping out decibel levels to rival jet aircraft, the girls were shouting that it wasn't fair that they were being told they had to leave the mall.  They would go to the other, larger mall, which was a "free place," a place where, one assumes, they would not be subjected to the arbitrary pettiness and cruelty foisted on them by the authorities of this mall.

It was, they shouted again and again, because of racism.

Oh, did I not mention they were black?

Call me crazy, but I think anyone that loud would get thrown out of the mall if they were purple.  And as I entered a bookstore in another corridor and could still hear the girls shouting as I traveled all the way to the back of the store, I realized that this is a pervasive problem among some segments of our population.

Syndicated columnist Saundra Smokes is an African-American woman whose column started in my local paper.  Ms. Smokes gets quite a lot of hate mail, because it would appear (in my opinion -- I honestly can't say what's in her head) that, as far as Saundra is concerned, every white person in the world is racist.  Whenever Saundra encounters a problem in her daily life, the reason is racism.  Her waiter is rude and provides otherwise poor service?  Racism.  Another driver cuts her off in traffic?  Racism.  A cashier acts as if that cashier would rather be anywhere but making change for Saundra?  Racism.

I know I've never experienced any of those problems, because I'm white.  As a white man I always get perfect restaurant service.  My noble whiteness causes me to be surrounded by courteous drivers.  My beloved whiteness ensures that my cashiers are always happy to serve me.

And lest anyone start jumping up and down telling me I'm being unfair, I'll be sure to say that this phenomenon isn't limited to people of color.  Too many of us, confronted with behavior or circumstances we do not like, are quick to blame some outside force, some  external conspiracy of unfairness directed at our general demographic category (or us, personally). 

When so confronted, we ought to first examine our own behavior.  If we've done nothing wrong, the simplest explanation is usually the correct one:  people suck.  It isn't personal.  The cashier hates you, but that's because the cashier hates everybody.

There are no conspiracies.  It isn't a plot.  It isn't racism.  It isn't your government or spy satellites or the gravitational influence of Planet X.  It isn't because the people you meet think you're ugly.  It's purely a pervasive misanthropy that is the natural result of being surrounded by all these people who hate everyone else equally.  Cope.

People suck.  And sometimes you're a jerk.  Were you a jerk just now?  Then you're not being targeted unfairly.