2008. The year of the devil.

He's here. In human form. Prancing around with Oprah while the masses adulate and undulate and dialate before him.

The devil incarnate. I always figured him to be a Republican. Oh, well. Then again, maybe the devil's waiting to see who wins before taking full control. Huckabee or Obama. Doesn't make much difference to the rest of us.

Either way, it's the year of the devil.

To prove it, let me let you in on a little secret. The other day, I cracked open an almond that had 2 nuts in it. When was the last time you had a siamese-almond? Peanut, sure. But almond?

Gotta be a sign.

The next sign is that I actually felt guilty about something the other day. I was waiting in line at Belk. There was an older white lady in the front of the line who had asked the black, female cashier what was on sale that day. She really asked that question. Two days after Christmas and she asks someone at Belk what was on sale. I screamed "Everything, you stupid idiot" but only in my mind. Behind her was a black man and his seven year old daughter. He reminded me of a chihuahua suffering from nicotine withdrawal. He could not stand still. He shoved about 10 pairs of pants and 5 shirts into his daughter's arms and started darting from one place to another, trying to shop and hold his place in line at the same time.

I'm sorry but if there's one thing I can't stand is people who think they can shop and stand in line at the same time. It's one thing at Food Lion but at Belk?

Anyway, God smiled on me. Just as taco-bell-dog-on-crack turned to circle the men's department again, the old lady finished her conversation and left the check-out line. The black cashier turned to the little black girl and said "can I help who's next". Before the little black girl could mouth the words "Huh", I had shoved past her, put my shirt up on the counter, and had the exact change waiting.

I heard baby-daddy's neck pop and tenny shoes shuffling to get back in time but it was too late.

The cashier was speechless. Such an overt act of aggression from a white man to a little black girl overloaded her circuits and before she could remember how to speed-dial Al Sharpton, she had already rung me up and handed me my receipt.

I turned and faced the little girl and her daddy. He game me a look reserved for confederate-clad pickup trucks and Duke fans. I smiled broadly and said "Happy New Year, Brother" as I strutted into a brighter shining sun.

The look on the little girl's face still haunts me, though.