Once Upon a Time in Arizona: A Fable About Superior Suction

No self-respecting yuppie (or Opie) should be without a Dyson vacuum cleaner. So when Alfredo Jimenez wanted a new dirt-munching power tool, he didn’t have to think hard about his choice. For Jimenez, a well-to-do physician from Phoenix tired of the tyranny of replacement vacuum bags, a Dyson represented everything his parents hoped would be possible when they immigrated (legally) to America all those years ago.

Oh, it's only going to get pricklier in Arizona.

Unfortunately for Alfredo, he happened to live in Arizona, where overt racial targeting is now mandated by the state. Following the purchase at a local shopping oasis, small beads of sweat developed on Alfredo’s brow as his BMW coasted by a Phoenix police car at two MPH below the speed limit.

The lights came on. Alfredo’s accomplished life flashed before his eyes as he pulled over. The officer approached Alfredo’s vehicle and tapped on the window.

Officer: “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

Alfredo Jimenez (AJ): “No sir.”

Officer: “It’s because you’re Mexican.”

AJ: “I see. My parents are actually from Venezuela.”

Officer: “So you’re a Commie, eh? What’s in the back seat there, Mr. MexiCommie?”

AJ: “A Dyson, sir.”

Officer: “For the love of Philo T. Farnsworth, what is that contraption? Are you smuggling the marijuana in that thing?”

Why did I fall prey to the siren song of your shapely molded plastic and superior suction? Why??

AJ: “It’s a very powerful vacuum cleaner invented by Sir James Dyson, the affable billionaire godfather of cyclonic suction power. I trust him. I will give him whatever amount of money he desires for his bizarre-looking products.”

Officer (rifling through the back seat, without asking): “And that’s a good chunk of change judging from this receipt. That Dyson fella commands a significant premium for his dust-bunny-hunting machines. Where’d you find this thing?”

AJ: “Target [pronounced Tar-zhay]. The full-sized model built to handle cat hair and nuclear materials will run you nearly $600. The point, sir, is that I have money. I’m not the kind of Mexican your law is meant to persecute. In fact, I’m not any kind of Mexican.”

Officer: “What are you, French too? Outta the car, boy.”

AJ: “Did you just call me boy, sir?”

Officer: “Alright, smartass, show me that green card.”

AJ: “I’ve been an American citizen my whole life. I just ran out of my house in dirty sweatpants and huaraches so I would fit in at Target. I don’t have my whole wallet with me. I was born in Peoria, Illinois.”

Officer: “I don’t know how you people think of these crazy words, but the law’s the law. You’re going in.”

With that, Alfredo assumed his rightful place in the entryway of the Arizona penal system.

The arresting officer was last seen eating enchiladas directly off his really, really clean floor.

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