I never realized what a target I am for lynching in Obama’s America until the night I was on line at a “hip hop” club in Atlanta.

Five of us had flown over from Tennessee the day before to celebrate Melanie’s upcoming wedding. We bridesmaids had been the best of friends since our time at Tri Delt and this was going to be the greatest bachelorette weekend ever!

Caity thought it would be fun to try a music club in an ethnic neighborhood since the bride-to-be once took a hip hop spin class at her gym. I really didn’t want to go, but without me I figured Cate might screw it up just like she did with her last four boyfriends. Donald Trump would sum up those losers with just one word: Sad!

So there we were, a group of attractive and fun young women celebrating an important life event but apparently that meant nothing to the greasy doorman at the club. He made us go back to the end of a very long line where a gang of local girls immediately accused us of cutting in front of them. It was dark so maybe they just blended in, I told them. One of them called me a “white b*tch” and my friends fell silent. It’s pretty humiliating to come face to face with raw prejudice like that.

Inside the venue, it was a bit grubby and I was afraid to put my Moschino bag down anywhere. It probably cost more than the rest of these girls’ outfits combined. The music was loud, and honestly pretty violent. One of those gang girls walked towards us in a really threatening way with a giant fruity cocktail but I blocked her with both hands out. I was wearing Michael Kors and she was probably jealous.

I requested to speak to the manager about all this, but he refused to have the gang members thrown out. Those girls must have known the bartenders, too, because we had to wait an unacceptably long time for our drinks and he charged us full price, despite the fact that I explained quite clearly what our special occasion was. That never would have happened at our places back in Knoxville. I guess they don’t believe in giving you free champagne if you’re pretty and blonde in Atlanta…

This pattern of prejudice is not an isolated experience. It’s happening all across America and our liberal media is letting it happen.

Scarlett Johansson and Charlize Theron are widely recognized as being the most talented and beloved actresses working today, yet everywhere from Ghostbusters to Saturday Night Live we see the push for “political correctness” that’s denying women like them a seat at the table. By any standard, it’s clear that there are less and less blonde, white woman in prominent media roles, despite the fact that’s what audiences crave most. Hollywood studios are losing money hand over fist because Obama’s cultural czars are forcing this ridiculous “diversity” agenda on the public.

While other races have a cultural pride months and special access to university educations, white blonde women are being taught to be ashamed of who they are.

I’ve managed to overcome all these obstacles. I’m 27, married and have a career on the internet. We own our own home in a safe neighborhood. I have taken a great deal of care to curate our domestic life, spending extra for GMO-free foods and decorating our open concept home with an airy playfulness. I’ve even taken up crafting!

But that could all blow away like dust in the wind if the economy collapsed and our credit cards got declined. That’s not such a far-fetched idea when you consider half the voters in this country are stupid enough to elect Hillary Clinton. In that worst-case scenario, I’d return to the job market but someone like me just doesn’t check off the right boxes for big companies today. Maybe that’s why my résumé received so few responses last time around despite having a strong Delta Delta Delta network to rely on. Sometimes I ask myself, “What if my car broke down in a poor neighborhood?” It bothers me to know that there are parts of America that are so dangerous for someone like myself. Imagine me on one of those public buses! The smell alone would probably kill me!

In the bathroom line at that hip hop place, one of the gang members tried to lecture ME about “white privilege.” She actually sounded college-educated, which was a surprise considering the crowd. I pretended I didn’t hear her by looking at my phone until she shuffled away. The girl was a bit chubby and it literally would have embarrassed me if my friends had seen me talking to her.

My big takeaway from that night was what hypocrites most liberals are. They want to stomp into your life and demand special rights, but the second you wander across the tracks into their dirty little world, they throw all this prejudice your way. I’m truly sorry about slavery and all that stuff that happened centuries ago, but you people have to realize that I’m the victim today of your extremist cultural agenda. When are you going to give me reparations for that?

I made a decision to leave the bachelorette party early. Two glasses of Chablis was enough and Cate was grinding against her third man of the night. (Unsuccessfully, I should add!) I later learned that the precious bride Melanie accepted a ride back from a rather large fellow at 1am, but I’ll set that topic aside for husband and wife to discuss. It wouldn’t be the first time she “super-sized it” if the rumors from our sorority days are true.

Anyway! My Uber took an inexcusably long time to show up. The driver claimed he was lost but I suspected that he was just afraid to enter the ghetto. I reminded him of the power of a bad review or even a police report and he sheepishly arrived. He looked Hispanic, by the way. Settling in to the back of that sleek town car, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had had the foresight to personally book the AirBnB. Our host was a normal blonde woman. Thank goodness I could see a profile picture to make sure of that! Thinking of the cranberry scones and egg-white omelets she’d prepare for us the next morning, I thought to myself, “Screw all you haters out there, sometimes we sisters have to stick together!”