The Person I'm Next To Is Proving Racial Rhythm Designations

I'm next to this white guy. Normally, I try to shy away from racially identifying people on this blog, not because I'm sensitive to these issues, but because I'm terrfied of being confronted as a racist. But this dude is pretty white. He kind of looks like Paul Rudd's younger brother. He is wearing a Bruce Springstein shirt, with three quarters sleeve, softball style. Maybe he is on a team, maybe he is in the E. Street band, maybe he is on the E. Street band's softball team. Its pretty white either way, but thats not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is rhythm.
This dude is singing karaoke, I won't bother to say which song, just imagine a song some white guy would sing, it is that one. He is almost entirely still as he sings. Rigor mortis still. His mouth opens and closes with a harsh mechanism and looks awkward and strange. But, his foot is what holds interest.
He has brown suede shoes on, his left for is still, but his right foot is making this sad effort at keeping time. Tap, tap.... tap..tap...taptaptap, tap. Tap. It isn't just bad, it is impossible. His taps don't make sense with our current understanding of math and physics, they are this weird jarring movement that threatens to rip asunder the very fabric of our physical universe, while paradoxically contributing to the strength of our social universe by reinforcing general views of white guys. So you know thats weird.
My friend Carlos pointed him out, and said the Paul Rudd thing.

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