Scrambled Hard-Boiled

by E.R. White, Jr.

I know what you’re thinking, “Oh my God, he said the N word.”

  Yeah, Ernie said “nigger” sometimes.

  He was also known to say wop, kike, hebe, spic, spade, cunt, bitch, asshole, son-of-a-bitch, prick, gook, chink, cocksucker, dipshit, dickwipe—I never quite figured out what that one meant—and any of the preceding in combination with the adjectives motherfucking, shitty or goddamn.

  Hey, welcome to the real world of big time private eyes, folks.

  I know in today’s world of political correctness, if you get caught publicly saying nigger, or some other term meant to degrade one’s ethnicity, you’ll be condemned and avoided in public by your peers, period. Never mind that you were eating lunch with those same individuals just the past week, and everyone was complaining about the kike lawyers taking ‘em for a ride, Korean grocers ripping off the neighborhood or that if wasn’t for those damn black bastards covering for Clinton, we could have gotten the white-trash asshole thrown out of office. You’re screwed and there’s only one way to save your stupid ass.

  It’s what I call the “Evangelical” method of public rehabilitation.

  First, you confess your sin for all to hear. A news conference is the best method, just make sure it is before four o'clock, so it can make the evening news. Admit you always been a prejudiced bastard (i.e., sinner), but now see the light. Denounce your own words as heresy and apostasy, then condemn all who still use them now and in the future.

  Second, get a few of the offended party to sternly forgive you in public, maybe even slip’em a few bucks on the side and then quietly retire away, monk-like, for a few months. Eventually, you'll gradually get on with your life as before, with the sure knowledge all is forgiven. As long as you condemn the next poor bastard who makes the same mistake as you did, all is well. Just don’t get confused and bring up Jesus or the Bible in any of this, or all bets are off. Unless of course, alcohol is involved, then Jesus is okay to talk about.

  You see political correctness is just like any other religion. It’s based on faith, impervious to logic, always looking for converts and its true believers are pains in the ass.

  Most important, however, is that even if you don’t believe in it, you can still join the congregation. As long as you drink the wine and eat the cracker, no one will be the wiser. Then you can go back to calling people niggers, gooks, hebes, honkeys etc. Just make sure you do it with your own kind.

  So, I wasn’t upset to hear Ernie say nigger, and I wasn’t upset to be asked if I had known any in the biblical sense. I’m a southern male for Christ's sake. I was calling blacks niggers by the time I was five and thinking about screwing’em since I was fourteen. It’s just the way things are.

  All white southerners call blacks niggers at one time or another, just as blacks call us white folk names. The only difference between 1911 and 2011 is that most of us no longer call’em niggers to their face because you’re likely to have your ass beat and there're a lot fewer opportunities to get away with having carnal relations with the women. Black women are much more picky about screwing white guys nowadays, damn it.

  Am I proud of this? To be honest, I really don’t give a damn. Most people that I run into in my line of business aren’t to be trusted anyway, whether they’re white, black, brown, yellow, rich or poor. They’re all looking out for number one, and so am I.

  Have I ever called a black man a nigger to his face?

  Yes, I have. However, I got some strict rules as to when and how I do it.

  First, I only use it as a method of intimidation in the line of duty. Second, I’m always armed at the time, preferably actually having my gun in hand. Third, I’m one hundred percent sure the gentleman or lady I’m addressing is not armed.

  It’s a good set of rules to keep in mind while you’re in the field. You can substitute any racial slur for the word “nigger” and the rules still hold.

  What’s that I hear you say? That’s disgusting? Abusing your fellow man that way!?.

  Well, as Ernie said, “Fuck Raymond Chandler, being a private dick means taking advantage of people. That’s your bread and butter.”

  It was the first rule Ernie taught me and has stood me in good stead this last thirty years—and made me rich to boot!

  So what was Ernie trying to prove? What he wanted to know, right off the bat, was could I stand being around him, that’s all.

  Of all the people I have met in life’s journey, Ernie is the one who understood best his own soul. Ernie knew what his core beliefs were; Money, sex, and food. He was totally at peace with the reality that he was, both physically and spiritually, one warped SOB. He never shied from what he was, never tried to hide it. In fact, if everyone were as honest and open about himself as Ernie was, we wouldn’t need private eyes in this world.

  So Ernie knew what he was, but what he wanted to know, in one easy question, what was I made of? Could I handle him? Was there any innate sense of honor or decency that might interfere with getting the job done?

  My future employment rode on this one, simple question, and I had only one chance to get it right.

  So, there I was, sitting in Ernie’s inner sanctum, with him looking at me, ready to judge me if I was worthy of his time.

  I was ready.

  I thought for a second, crossed my legs and said, in my most nonchalant voice, “Well, let’s see. I once banged this Egyptian whore in the red-light district in Amsterdam. Technically, she was from Africa, so does that make her a nigger?”

  Ernie thought for a second, took another drag from his cigarette, looked at me, faintly smiled, shrugged his shoulders and said, “Good question.”

  Larson Gallagher, with his naïve core of inner decency, had failed this test. I had not.

  Like Plato was to Socrates, I was to become protégé to Ernie’s mentor. I guess in the great scheme of things, Plato and I got what we deserved.

  Just remember, it was Plato who wrote the book.