Tag Archives: work

Today’s Word is… WORK

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I woke up and checked my phone; hour before my alarm.  I could just go back to sleep…nah why chance it, I’ll just make breakfast.  I was excited, nervous, anxious…it was my first day at my current employer, Nunya Damn Business Associates, after months of interviews, scouring job postings, and watching way too much television I was actually leaving the house to make money for a change.  Black or white shirt, solid or pattern tie, glasses or no glasses.  After enough fretting I was closing in on the hour I thought I had by awaking early, it was time to go.  It was a confident subway ride, other professionals dressed to their respective jobs, I felt like I belonged.  I arrive at NDBA early, the cheerful receptionist who recognized me from my interview weeks earlier greeted me with a congratulations.    Someone was paged down to meet me in the lobby and I was greeted with

“Wow, you’re right on time”

“Um, nigga duh” I thought

“oh yeah the commute was quicker than I expected” is what I said with a smile. 

That was 3 years ago.  Still smiling through my real thoughts.  These days I’m peeling myself out of bed at my 5th alarm, if I’m wearing a tie its for plans after work and the cheery receptionist is an old white dude who I may greet with a nod if we make eye contact but otherwise I can’t hear him over the trap music in my headphones.  I smile and greet people I encounter en route to my office where on a good day I can hide for the next 8 hours.  I just don’t have patience for the shenanigans some days.   I’m the only black male in my department, amongst the youngest here…I’m well aware I’m the Rudolph here.  So trust, It’s for your benefit, and mine.  I’m accustomed to a certain standard of living.  And I actually do like my job.  I don’t like awkward and uncomfortable and so I smile, nod, chuckle…live to fight another day.  But with each smile, there’s a part of me who really wants to say…

Why are you asking me what I’m listening to when I’m about 95% sure you have no idea who it is?

Don’t call me “T” put some respeck on my name

I’m eating teriyaki wings but you are telling about this great soul food you had one time

Do you really think the new girl is cute or you just assume because she’s black I’m attracted to her

Of all TV shows you watch, Empire was the first one that came to mind huh

Unless you know my brother,  who I remind you of is wrong

Sombreros and fake mustaches for Cinco de Mayo, huh

“50 Shades of Chicken” as a gag gift for the Yankee Swap couldve went really badly…

Or was you assuming we wouldn’t go for what was clearly a book

Why are you so surprised I like baseball

Don’t ask me what slang words mean; urbandictionary did that so I dont have to go through that

You don’t need to remind me of when I’M taking time off

No I’m not on BLACK Twitter, or any Twitter….in fact, what’s Twitter?

Again, I get it.  The desire to connect and such.  But for myself and others in the same position we have our digital water cooler, podcasts, social media, blogs…outlets where we can chop it up with our folk so I don’t necessarily need to make awkward conversation with Alex in Sales.  So which is healthier, an office culture with people of whom you don’t identify with or logging into the matrix with your peers but are still essentially words on a screen? I need both*.  I need a dose of blackness when I feel alone at work and to talk to actual people when I feel alone at work. Of course, the true answer is more diverse, happy work environments but you know, glass ceilings and all that.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… WORKHUSBAND

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I’m walking downstairs from my place, in the entry hallway, a black car I don’t recognize pulls up in front.  Music blaring, I stand on the porch to see who it is, out steps “She”, she grabs her bag, cackling a storm.  At this point I’m just standing there, I had somewhere to go but I was put off by the situation, thought she wasn’t off for another 2 hours, wait…did she know I was going to be here…..Nah she’s knows better.  She interrupts my thoughts and says hi, I take her bag and kiss her deeply then give dude a head nod, because I’m petty.  Now its been about 180 seconds you’d think she introduce me to her chauffeur, he pulls off we head upstairs.  I forget what I was doing but yeah, I got questions.

“Oh you know Phuckthisdudesname, he works in security, I got out early and he gave me a ride on break, thought you would be at the gym”

Aha see I knew she didn’t think I was home, what if he was going to be invited upstairs……Nah she knows better.

Anyway, as time wore on I would hear more and more about Phuckthisdudesname, some funny story that wasn’t really funny, alluded to his frequently on her twitter (i wasn’t snooping we actually just followed eachother, I don’t believe its a big deal). I’m not really a jealous guy and I trusted her, so I would tease her with it more than actually be concerned.  I had an inkling that he did like her, not that he had a chance (he wasn’t her type and um, she had me duh).  He definitely tried it, as most work husbands do….they sneaky like that.

I said there was a double standard between workwives and workhusbands because men ideally are the pursuers.  I’ve been the #workhusband paying all the compliments he forgot to.  I see plenty of them in play at work, standing at her desk, grinning ear to ear about to ask her out to lunch, his treat.  He has some wild dating story that conveniently places him as the good guy that is only unchose because he is just too sweet.  Just this past Valentine’s Day, I got my Valentine a dozen roses, work husband her a single one, guess who was not bout to be whisked around town with a bakers dozen of roses.  Nah, yo. 

Moral of the story, #staywoke.  Got to call the Mrs at lunch because work husband trying to take her to a 2 for $20, got to leave her a couple dollars or she’s going to be bumming cigarettes (actually, don’t date smokers, bleh). Even if the work husband doesn’t size up, he represents the large portion of men who think she’s fly and doesn’t see the annoying nag with bonnet and wifebeater.  Old work (i love/hate this term, it seems rude but it humors me) is always newness to somebody.  Appreciate your lady, or #he will…..

Hell, or even I will.

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-Stan-

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Filed under Love, Randomness, Relationships

Today’s Word is… DESERVE

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You know how things just fall into your lap when you’re not looking for it, well I think its just happened to me

Everything I’m looking for…
A fine blend of traditional and modern…
A brick house, one of would say…
Ready to take on all my shit…
From a nice part of town…
Plenty of potential…
Not much back there but the front is luxurious…

And comes with utilities.

You see I’m talking about the newest object of my fascination, a 2 BR loft in the city.  Well I was, got outbid by a newlywed couple, I hope their marriage fails, kidding, slightly.  Anyway, since I wrapped my mind around moving, suddenly my apartment feels….different.  Once you see what you can do, you never want to feel like you’re going backwards.  I make a decent enough wage to not deal with the ticky tack things here, I can do better, and I will.

That reminded me of another time; about 3 years ago, I applied for a promotion at my job. I went through the whole song and dance only to be turned down (for what).  Not long after I quit, in my mind I was already planning the pay bump, thinking about everything I hated about that job and how things would change for the better only to have the rug snatched from up under me.  I couldn’t do that anymore, I knew I could better and I did. (Well I quit for a worst job with better pay, got laid off until I got my current gig which is better than both, so it all worked out…eventually.)

Yet with relationships that I’m not that courageous.  I take what’s there before me and convince myself this is satisfactory (see post before last).  Its been in the back of my mind lately why I dont feel like I deserve XYZ.   I’ve gotten too comfortable being Prince Charming; I aim to be everything she is looking for but I don’t necessarily get what I want.  My income tells me I can get that loft in the city, my resume tells me I demand more than minimum wage, but what dictates what I deserve as a lover?   Looks, personality, stroke game, status?

A while back I talked about standards and I said there was nothing wrong with having standards, provided you hold yourself accountable to them.  Be the person you think you deserve deserves.  The other day on Twitter there was a woman dismissing Groupons (actually think thats Monday’s post) but look at her avatar, damaged hair, cheap jewelry…and of course people let her know about it, cuz Internet.  Now there was nothing wrong with her opinion but the man who’s too “rich” for Groupon (you say no to discount dates, Stanny J can’t) probably isn’t checking for her anyway.  Now bringing it all full circle, I think I’m a great guy, give or take (God ain’t thru with me yet) do I deserve #Her yet?  Hell,  does she deserve me?

-Stan-

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