Tara goes to the bus driver

As a pretty white girl raised in a good home, Tara had been raised to be fearful and suspicious of people who were different than her, especially strange black men, to seek comfort and protection from authority figures, and to tattle on the former to the latter. So feeling confronted and uncomfortable with this sexually arrogant negro, the teenager sprang from her seat and made her way to the driver up front as the bus pulled aside for a stop.

"Excuse me, sir, but there's a black man on the bus..." Tara began to explain breathlessly, before noticing that the bus driver was dark-skinned himself and giving her a scowl. "I mean, there's just like a regular guy," she nervously explained. "He's looking at me, and I'm pretty sure he wants to **** me, right?" She didn't seem to realize that she sounded like a paranoid little racist.

"What the hell you wearin', girl?" the driver asked, looking at the girl's tight, revealing outfit. "Ain't hookers be looking for work, or just not his kind for yo cracker ass?"

"I am a cheerleader!" she protested. "And I'm not..." But Tara trailed off as she noticed the target of her complaint disappear out the rear door of the bus and into the night, and she enjoyed a brief moment of relief until she remembered that in her haste she had foolishly left her little purse on the seat. Her heart sank in her chest when she saw it was gone, and with it her wallet, house keys, mobile phone and lip gloss.