Door. The two O’s are double doors. The D-R is doctor. I don’t wanna walk into this hospital by myself. I need the sup in support. I need the port in support. A greeter who never harbored any ill feelings in our relationship and left my side. Your vessel of love is my safe haven. The reef in re-fuge. The sea in se-cur. I-T-Y. I thank you … for being a Wonder Woman and not a wandering whoa man did you see her …
Use to spell team I-A-M-E until my WW underscored the importance of U-N-I together. I achieved more working as a unit than I would have laboring at it alone. Is it baby or ba-by ‘cause some men leave when they hear the words “I’m pregnant.” Talking about they going to the store. Say they going to the store when muthafuckas like me can only find closed stores because they’re new and they need a customer to cut the purple ribbon for their grand opening. I ran before they put the oversized scissors in my hand, but while I was sprinting, I was looking back, unaware of traffic signs. My breast snapped the finish line ribbon. If I paid attention to the blueness of the Parking sign and the redness of the Stop sign I would have known purple lie ahead. Future turn on the lights.
I wrote this on Fanny Blankers 100th birthday, but I didn’t speed write. Her ghost in the wind blew out the candles. Ghost in the shell Donatello. Ghost in the machine Address Book Killer. Yellow pages logo when she walked her fingers across my waves. White pages logo my W extends her reach to make the line for the H sharp. Her name not Barbara. She wears her cape in the front.
Do I have to remind you she’s a Wonder Woman whose got it all from A to Z? But they trying to make the ampersand the 27th letter again. We championing the first, fourteenth, and fourth letters. 2nd Place and 3rd Place want some shit that looks like a ribbon. I blame the motivational speakers. They told me to take CAN’T out my vocabulary. I blame my grandma. She told me to say SIR as a sign of respect. These muthafuckas gave me CANCER!!!
Why the ribbon worm had to be pink doeeeeeee?
I expelled my proboscis because I’m being attacked. I’m under an immense amount of stress. I’m not multiplying. I’m breaking apart. If you don’t put me back in the water in the next few seconds there will be a ribbon in the sky, a worm in the dirt, a ribbon in the sky, a worm in the dirt, a ribbon in the … , a worm in the …
This fucking black cloud still follows me around too Em.
Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!
Sorry for the wait. His car still in the parking lot. He talking to someone on the phone. Text and drive! Wait … he’s backing out! Dammit, he stopped. Another car drove behind him. Okay, he’s in reverse. Dammit. Some old guy walking behind the car. He needs the aid of some sort of standing wheelchair to walk so he’s slow to move. I hope I don’t be like that when I get old. This gonna be a while.
Okay, the coast is clear. He’s … he’s … not in front of the office no more. Let me run to the door and make sure he’s out of the parking lot. Traffic is bad. Fuck! Come on, man, you had that one! What … why is he reversing? Please don’t tell me he’s coming back to the office. Ohhh he’s finding another exit. Let me follow his car out the parking lot. He can’t see me behind this pole, right? I been losing weight. He found another exit, y’all. He’s … he’s outta here.
Big Bossman won’t be back until Monday afternoon. I have a day and a half to …
- I will untuck my fucking shirt! No one can look at my ass now! That’s what the tennis tail is for. No one will see my penis print either! These not fucking 1980’s basketball shorts.
- I will take my fucking phone off vibrate. Y’all gone hear my Lana Del Rey ringtone and my Sherwood Forest text tone today muthafucka!
- Wear khakis on casual Friday. I ain’t wearing no fucking jeans today! I’m breaking the rules and finishing the week with these Classic Stones baby!
- Make the fucking temperature warm. I be freezing! Goosebumps all over my arm and shit! I try not to complain and just wear a jacket. Y’all act like I’m the IRS and trying to audit the books how y’all got me in this cold ass room shawty!
- Turn off this got-damn elevator music, Bob! We got one floor so why am I hearing this shit? I wanna hear how Bankroll Fresh ran off on the plug today.
- Park in front of the office. Look! I know we in a suite and we only got two parking spaces. I know these spots for the customers and the employees need to park far away from the building. I know this. But have you seen some of them??? They need the exercise.
- Not tell anyone “good morning,” “going to lunch,” and “bye.” Y’all ain’t gotta know where I’m at, at all times. I will come. I will go. That little chime notification that goes off every time the door opens tells you everything you need to know.
- Eat a full-course meal at my desk instead of a snack. Fuck them ants!
- Not go to the restroom just to fart. Look! I don’t know if it’s the Taco Bell, but I burnt-burnt a lot, and I’m tired of getting up. I hold that shit in too long my stomach start growling. There have been studies that said smelling farts is good for your health. I bullshit you not! I can just lie to you and say my chair was squeaking but then I gotta convince you that smell is coming from the vents. Too much trouble. And no, I won’t stop eating Taco Bell. That AM Crunchwrap steak and Naked Egg Taco bundle fye fye!
- Watch something NSFW on company computers. Nah, not porn. That’s for amateurs. I wanna watch videos of what people do with their hands in driverless cars. Like … have sex!
- Not talk in my white people voice because they can still tell I’m black. Ain’t that’s why that white lady called me the N word over and over? Why you talking shit 3,000 miles away though? Oh, yeah, okay!
- Leave the lights on. Big Bossman, you gone mess up our chances at being part of a skyline one day.
- Leave 10 minutes early. I need to beat traffic and customers who like to come in last-minute. Talking about “I just got off work.” Shit, me too!
- Not let a non-customer use the restroom. Look! It’s bad enough I gotta deal with y’all leaving piss, shit, and period blood on the toilet seat.
- Talk into my desk-fan like a child with at least one customer. Thissssss calllll mayyyyyy beeeee monitoreddddd forrrrr qualityyyyyy controlllllll.
- Rub on my nipples when a customer says, “Let me speak with your manager.” Can you say that one more time, just the way you said it, just a little more slowly … and softer. Yes, yes, yasssssssssss bitch!
- Spin around in my chair and say wheeeeee.
- Walk around like I own the place. Nah, fuck that! Let’s go back to number 17. I don’t wanna walk nowhere. Everywhere I go in the office I’m pulling up in my chair, rolling. That’s why they got wheels, right???
- Flirt with pretty customers. If you look good in-person or if you sound good over the phone I’m giving you minimum 22 compliments. I’m shooting my shot like Westbrook! 3 for 22.
- Not do any work the last 2 hours and blame it on Comcast.
Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!
I didn’t want to write this. I didn’t want to write this because I don’t want to be responsible for my uncle having 964 new cousins. But I have to write this. I have to write this to flush these annoying thoughts out of head in hopes of this shit sticking to the page. Thoughts like, “If I had that money I would buy this, I would buy that. I would do this, I would do that.” Why the hell am I counting and spending another man’s money?! I only did this probably twice in my life and the thoughts were in passing, but this time it’s been consistent ever since I was told. I know of millionaires and billionaires, but the key words are “know of.” I don’t truly know them. I never met them. I don’t know if they look like their pictures, if they’re shorter in person, if their breath stink. But this hit closer to home. A home I’ve been to countless times. A home I’ve spent the night at. A home I’ve spent holidays at. A home with a backyard I’m scared to go in because of a big ass black dog named Missy. Please, somebody tell me! What is this phenomenon called? Where something impactful (bad or good) happens to a relative and you think it happened to you too, like y’all share the same body, the same mind, the same lifestyle. It’s weird. And people, please take a harder look at your junk mail. I was cleaning up and shredding papers when I came across a check from a settlement payment. I was a Settlement Class Member in a class action lawsuit from the time I was employed at this warehouse. By the time I saw the check it was 3 weeks passed the 150 days I had to cash it. Only $13.07 but I needed that little money to go with some other little money to make some little big money, ya feel me? Sigh. Without further ado …
He deserved it.
He has a history of winning. In the mid 2000’s, he was rewarded $20,000 from a court settlement due to a job-related incident. Weeks after his recent lottery winnings of a half of million, he played again and won thousands. In the 90’s, he won over the heart of a woman who keeps my heart clogged up with lasagna and cheesecake: my aunt. Unfortunately, he also has a history of loss. In the early 2000’s, I lost my cousin, their first child together. 3 years ago, they were displaced after their apartment unit went up in flames.
I don’t believe in it.
The only time I ever used a coin, a key, a fingernail to scratch off a lottery ticket is when this car company sent me some mail that said if I get wam-wam-wam in a row I would win a truck. During this time I was naïve to marketing tactics companies use to get foot traffic in their store, so, of course, I got excited when I got wam-wam-wam in order. Know the first person I call? My favorite aunt. She took me to the dealership and I expected to leave off the lot in separate cars. The only thing I left with I didn’t come with was a sucker. No, seriously, they gave me some candy. I didn’t understand the symbolism behind that then, but as of writing, you better believe I do. Although, buying lottery tickets won’t break the bank it’s something I don’t want making my bank either. This has nothing to do with the horror stories you heard about past lotto winners. I’m an entrepreneur and I feel I have a better chance at selling a million scratch devices. Let me pitch you! What do you think of a newly designed coin used solely for scratching off the UV ink on lottery tickets? Instead of dead presidents and monuments no one really visits, how about on the front of the coin it’s a past lotto winner and on the back of the coin it’s a gas station? Insanely great, right? This will be your lucky coin, your lucky charm! 100 on 4 please!
It’s my way of pretending I never heard the news to begin with.
I’m not asking which convenience store he went to. I’m not asking which numbers he played. I’m not trying to act like I didn’t get mad that time he splashed water on me at the pool. I’m not trying to remind him of all the times he playfully asked me to borrow money when I was a kid. I’m not trying to sit around talking about basketball all day and how much I love LeBron James (I will confess my love for the King to any peasant). I’m not trying to educate my aunt on how dirt is more conspicuous on black cars and offer to wash her new Camaro, annnnnd ask to go for a spin in it. I’m not trying to babysit my cousin (their surviving child). My grandma never came over to my place that day and the first thing she said to me after not talking to me in 2 weeks was not “My favorite son-in-law just won $440,000 playing the lottery.” It’s none of my business! It’s none of my business! It’s none of YOUR business, woman!
Would you start playing the lottery after a family member won a significant amount of money? Why or why not?
Son – Dad, where you going?
Dad – Uhh … going to get some milk. We’re all out.
Son – Can I come?
Dad – Not this time.
Son – Why? You always let me go.
Dad – Just not this time, okay. I’m going to a different store and they don’t allow kids in this late.
Son – What store is that?
Dad – Look, I gotta go, okay?
Son – But you don’t have to go. We don’t need milk. I don’t like cereal or chocolate milk anymore. So you can stay now. Here, take your jacket off and sit down.
Dad – Your mom needs the milk to put in her cornbread.
Son – Well let her go to the store and you stay. You stay here. Close the door and sit down. I wanna show you something upstairs. Let’s go!
Dad – I’ll see it when I get back.
Son – Can I go … pleassssseeeee?
Dad – … well you can’t go looking like that. Go upstairs and put your evening clothes on.
Son – Yay! runs halfway upstairs Dad, dad, can … can you come upstairs with me and help me put my clothes on?
Dad – Your mother is up there. She’ll help you.
Son – Mom … can you tie my shoes?
Mom – Where you going?
Son – With dad to go get some milk for your cornbread.
Mom – I’m not cooking cornbread.
Son – runs to bedroom window and sees dad truck leaving driveway He tricked me.
Mom – He got me too.
Son – Why daddy don’t want us no more?