Why Black People Never Throw Away Their Receipts
Or how I ended up with a storage room filled to the brim with paper
My daughter and I were at an outlet mall on the outskirts of Seattle. We’d just purchased some lovely outfits for her at Forever 21. The cashier politely asked:
“Do you want the receipt in hand, or should I put it in the bag?”.
“Please give it to me in hand,” I responded anxiously.
My daughter looked over at me with an inquisitive look on her face. When we left the store, she asked:
“Why do you always want to have the receipt, Mummy? In fact, why do you have so many receipts in your handbag and a whole storage room filled with receipts at home? Why do you keep the piece of proof that you have purchased something forever?”
I paused for a moment and then started to tell her why.
The fact is, as a Black person, I always have to be able to prove that I bought something. If I lose a receipt, I’ll never be able to return a purchase I no longer want or get the warranty to fix or replace a defective item. No one will just simply believe me or give me a pass if I cannot prove I am the rightful owner of the product.
My mixed-race daughter stared at me quizzically; I could tell she thought I might be exaggerating.
To this day, I continue to ask for my receipts, and I store them in my handbag for weeks and months on end or in storage at home for years. Truth be told, I’m over 50, and I don’t think that I have thrown out a single receipt in my life.
My white husband, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. He feels that receipts are an annoyance. Not only do they fill up his wallet, but if worse comes to worst, he knows that he can always convince the sales assistant to take back or offer an exchange for an item he no longer wants. For a warranty, it might be trickier to get it enforced without a receipt, but I have seen him manage to do that, too.
The fact is, in a world that is still largely racist, Black people are considered suspicious or guilty of bad intent. What I mean by this, is that white people do not trust us, they constantly think that we are up to something illicit or bad.
You can do the experiment yourself. Go to a high-end boutique with a Black friend, and act as though you don’t know each other. You’ll notice that your Black friend will get followed around the boutique and will be constantly asked if they need any help — which is the code sentence for, “You don’t have any business being here.”
Compare your shopping experiences, you’ll see that your Black friend doesn’t have the same good service that you as a white person would have. You’ll quickly realize that the world treats you differently depending on whether you are white or black.
As I get older, I have little patience for random racism. Getting accused of shoplifting is something that I would not take kindly to, so I ask for my receipts, carry them around, and am ready to brandish them if I need to.
The fear of being stopped or of being wrongly accused has brought about a form of mental trauma that has led me to become a receipt hoarder. It’s not a serious affliction, mind you, but it’s just another way in which racism shapes my everyday life.
Some say that racism still has a lot of evil days ahead of it. I say that with the global racial reckoning that is happening and, most importantly, the blending of populations, we have a chance at dismantling it in our lifetimes. I promise you that when we do, I’m going to organize a magnanimous bonfire to burn up all those receipts. You are, of course, welcome to join.
Thank you for reading my perspective.
Do you want to read more stories about racism, content you won’t find in the mainstream media? If so, please take out a paid subscription. This will help me to continue to deliver this content. Thank you.
Wow, this really resonates with me! My biracial son was working on the boardwalk, rode his bike to and from work. He was confronted by a ww about his bike. She said he son’s bike was stolen and his bike looked exactly like her son’s. She called the police. The officer that showed up knew my son well, played basketball with my son and friends all the time. He laughed at her and said, “lady, this kid is the last kid that ever would steal a bike!” She demanded he produce a receipt! Guess what? Mama had it! When I got the call I was so mad but so happy I could shove that receipt right down her throat. Don’t come to vacation down her and accuse our kids of stealing! Ugh, take that racist crap back to your own town! 🤬
I'm white, but I had to deal with this once.
I walked into a bookstore near work, with a paperback book in my hand, moseyed around, found nothing to buy, and walked out.
The cashier leaped from his cash register, vaulted out the door after me, and yelled, "EXCUSE ME, but do you have a receipt for that book?"
Slowly I turned and slowly I walked up to him. "I sure do," I said, calmly as I could, removing it from where it was serving as a bookmark and held it up.
"Thank you," the cashier said. "You know why I asked you this?"
"Yes," was all I said.
"Have a good day," he responded, and went back in.
To this day, that receipt is still serving as a book mark in "Carrying The Fire," by Gemini 10 and Apollo 11 astronaut Michael Collins. It's his memoir of his astronaut life. It's fascinating. But every time I pick the book up, I remember that face and that incident.
And how people of a different melanin content have to deal with it 50 times a day.