Hey!
Oh my god, I’m so glad I found you. I was starting to get worried. The game is about to start, and there’s no way I could even begin to pay attention until I found the one. The one other person of color at this hockey game, that is. You see, it’s a rule that we have to find each other before the puck drops. We have to make intense eye contact but share no words. We have to assure each other with a look that says “You’re not alone” and “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Because when someone shouts something alarmingly racist during the national anthem, we have to be able to find each with wide eyes that say “What the actual fuck is going on?”
During the first intermission, we should meet by the bathroom near section 112 to check in on each other. Maybe we can even grab a giant pretzel. Silently, of course. That’s the key to this relationship. No words, all eyes.


