Don't Judge Me by My Cover. It's Dangerous.

So I was on the subway last night. Yes, I was slumming on the mass transit, I had writing and reading to do. I sat in the car with my messenger bag next me. Across from me was a black young sprawling his right leg over nearly half the bench. During our journey a person gets on the train and asks me to move my bag so he can sit. They didn't ask the black guy. Why? because this person was clearly racist and feared talking to a black man. But they see me, a small, white woman and think I'll comply. I moved my bag, let him sit down, and then I stabbed him. I had to prove that stereo-types weren't truth. The sprawling black guy, I think, was on the same page as me because as my victim bled out the black kid started screaming in hysterics, flailing his arms about, and then he fainted.

Yeah, women don't just use poison anymore to get their point across.