So I keep hearing from the left that, apparently, white males control every aspect of culture, economy, and politics. I would like to offer my rebuttal: the Mesoamerican celebration of young womanhood known as the Quinceañera.
As a white male, I did not get a Quinceañera when I turned 15 and I still have not had a Quinceañera. No one purchased me a beautiful ball gown and I was never given a proper entrance (or La Entrada) into a banquet hall filled with family and friends. Never in my life have handsome chambelanes hoisted me above their heads and paraded me around the room like the princess I deserve to be.
So, don’t talk to me about equality until I am presented with a crown, a pair of high heel shoes, and a doll. I want a night of dancing, cake, and toasts in my honor. Not allowing grown white men to be honored in such a way is, and I’m not afraid to say it, reverse racism.
Show me the law where only Latina teenage girls are allowed to be ushered into adulthood in such a manner. I want to be filled with tamales, tacos al pastor, and salsa; drink vats of Pozole. A whole buffet table of churros, conchas, and pan dulce. Not to mention a giant ass cake for me to cut into. Maybe my father will dance with me and finally tell me he is proud of me.
This is a long-winded way of saying, please join me at the Eagle Ranch Golf Club and Resort for my Quinceañera on the day of the 42nd birthday. Gifts are accepted but cash is preferred.