When I hear Afro Joe I immediately think of a black guy. And it's not a race thing, because everyone else in the office, including Markus, the black dude who works here, had the same response. So it is legitimately odd that you would be named Afro Joe and be a one hundred and ten pound white guy. And it's even weirder that you go by that name and have chosen to teach introductory French in a public high school in eastern Wisconsin. But hey, none of us here can judge, so don't sweat it.
What you should sweat is the tremendous scrutiny your inscrutable lifestyle choice has brought to your doorstep. No one knows why the fuck you want to call yourself Afro Joe, and pretty much everyone finds it inappropriate in one way or another. Most people think you're kind of racist. A lot of other people just think you want attention for having a slightly unusual haircut. And everyone else doesn't like thinking about you, because you make them really uncomfortable.
But today you're going to meet a young woman at work, a new substitute teacher who just arrived in Manotowoc a week ago. She'll be a beautiful woman with thick black glasses and a big heart. She'll laugh at your jokes and when you tell her you have to go teach she'll smile when she asks for your name.
Tell her your name is Joe and fuck this girl. We're sick of looking at your life and feeling depressed about it. Just lose the Afro part. We get it, you're white and you have an Afro. This girl likes you for you. She doesn't need to know it. Get laid, for christssake.
Congratulations Afro Joe!
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