School’s Out (Part 2) {A Piece of Fiction}

I dreamed about that voice...vibrating off my skin...the warmth of his breath caressing the back of my neck, as his hands caressed my-

"Yes Ma'am, can I help you?"

Dang! What? That wasn't his voice! Then I felt flushed as I came to myself and realized I was standing at the reception desk in the front office at my child's school. I had come to bring some snacks for his class.

"Yes, I need to take these to my child's class." Oh man! What kind of look did I have on my face while standing there? Shake it off, I told myself as I carried the chips and juice down the hall. I found myself searching the hallways for him, just to catch a glimpse.

I chatted with my child's teacher for a few minutes, then reluctantly prepared to leave. My child stopped me. "Mommy, eat lunch with me today, please?" "Sure baby," I replied. At least that'll give me a chance to hang around a little longer; maybe I'll get to see him.

Seated at the table, I listened to my baby chatter on excitedly about school. I was so glad to see my child happy. Taking a bite of my chicken, I glanced around the cafeteria. The school was impressively clean and orderly. Then, I heard it.

"Hi, how are you?" It came from behind me; I stopped mid-chew; was I daydreaming again? Nope, he slid into the seat beside me. Damn! How sexy can one man be?

I swallowed quickly; "Hi, it's good to see you," I replied, hoping my voice wasn't to squeaky or shaky.

"I hope you don't mind me joining you." He flashed that million-dollar smile and I almost melted into my mashed potatoes.

"Not at all." By now I had recovered and returned the smile. Did someone turn up the heat in here?

"Listen, I'm glad I ran into you. I'd like to ask you a favor, if you don't mind."

"Sure, anything," I replied. And I do mean anything!

"If you're not busy after school today, I need some assistance with some files and paperwork. My secretary has a very important meeting at her son's school so she won't be able to stay. Would you be able to help me for a couple of hours?"

Me? And you? Alone in your office? I got that familiar tingle just thinking about it. "Sure. No problem. I can be back here right after I drop Taylor off at my mom's for the weekend. Is 5:00 ok?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then." Taylor and I took our trays to the window and we went back to the classroom. As I was leaving, I saw him standing by the door. I sure hoped no one noticed my knees buckle.

"Just ring the buzzer when you get back and I'll let you in," he smiled.

"Ok." He held the door open for me, and as I walked past him, he stepped toward me and surreptitiously placed his hand at the small of my back. "See you this evening," he whispered. Lawd, will I make it that long? I can't wait....

School’s Out (Part 1) {A Piece of Fiction}

School had just started. It was August. And it was hot. Come to think of it, so was I.

It started fairly innocently. I got a call from my child's school, inviting me to Parent's Open House. When I answered the call, nothing had prepared me for the voice on the other end of the phone. It was a deep, rich baritone; so deep that I felt the vibration of his vocal chords in my chest. I almost missed the reason for the call, I was so captivated by that voice. So captivated that it invaded my dreams.

Open House night came; I met with my child's teacher for about half an hour. We stopped near the entryway and talked for a few minutes as she was walking me out. That's when I saw him. I wasn't sure who he was; a teacher perhaps. He was coming down the hall towards us, shaking hands and greeting parents and visitors. When he got to us, he stopped, and his eyes met mine. Did he just give me a very appreciative once-over? Did I just give him one? Did anyone else notice?

He smiled and extended his hand; I took it. Please tell me I didn't literally jumped when he grasped my hand? Because I know I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me the second his hand touched mine.

We made our introductions; turns out, he's my child's principal. Wow. Everything about this man was electric; he was sooo smooth! I guess he was about 5'7"; slender build, immaculately groomed, and sexy as hell! He kept his smile and his gaze fixed on me. We talked briefly; I let him know that I was available any time if the school needed me (or you, I thought to myself). As I prepared to leave (very reluctantly), he grasped my hand in both of his, and said, "I'll be calling you." Damn! That voice...

WAITING FOR A KING (NOT A COURT JESTER)

Since I have been (newly) single, I have noticed an interesting trend when it comes to the men (and I use the term loosely) that I encounter. Quite an interesting cast of characters:

“The Weather Vane”: This one couldn’t make up his mind who and what he wanted. Some days, he’s all over me, texting and calling; others, he disappears and can’t be found. Turns out that during his last disappearing act, he was with his ex. He finally called and told me that for a couple of months, he and his ex had been trying to work things out. Hmmm, glad you finally told me.

“Mr. Static Cling”: With this one I learned not to fall for the pretty eyes. I messed up and gave him my phone number, and instantly regretted it. He called constantly, and was just entirely too clingy. I love an attentive man, but this was just ridiculous.

“Ancient One-Track Mind”: This fella is almost 50 year old and has the mentality of a teenage cave-dweller. Instead of asking me to lunch, he’s asking me to a hotel room. He assumed that because I had a new vehicle, that I had to have a man and the man got it for me. Every time he sees me he eyeballs me up and down like I’m the last piece of naked chicken on the plate, and he even had the nerve to ask me if we could sit in my vehicle (that I couldn’t have gotten without a man, according to him) and let him…how can I put this…breastfeed (I won’t even tell you his exact words). Really dude?

“Mr. Sad Case”: Late 40’s/early 50’s. Unemployed. No income. No house. No car. Drinks and is rumored to be on drugs. Seriously? No thank you.

I spent 15 years of my life with a man who was a wonderful God-send. He was educated, intelligent, ambitious, and driven. Tall, handsome, and confident. Funny, sexy, and attentive. Spiritual, sensitive, and thoughtful. God called him home last year, and now I am single again. Now, I’m not perfect, but I am a Queen who deserves a King. And I refuse to settle. Alone does not mean desperate. I know there is a man out there with all the qualities I look for. I’ll be right here, waiting patiently. That is all.

MY PEOPLE, MY PEOPLE

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there existed a group of strong, determined, resilient, and supportive people; African-Americans (Black people, if you will). They owned businesses; they hired/went to work for each other; they frequented each others business faithfully; and, they supported each other. But something happened somewhere along the way, and the wealth and abilities they possessed were being spread everywhere else except in their own community. They even sold lucrative entities that they owned to the very race that enslaved and degraded them for centuries. And now, where there was once camaraderie and support, there is apathy, envy and division. A sad ending to our tale.

If only this were a fairy tale…

Follow my timeline…

December 2002 to September 2003: worked as an office manager for a state funded program house under our CDC. The Executive Director was (is) an African-American female who unfortunately embodies ‘a black woman on a power trip’. She gave me hell and worked my nerves the entire time, the longest 9 months of my life.

August 2005 to August 2006: worked as an Administrative Assistant for a private church school. Several months in the Principal/Director (a Black man) doubled my salary and added to my responsibilities. Out of the blue one day a couple of months later, he claims that they could no longer afford my salary (after he had remodeled the building and his house) and told me not to return to work the next day.

March 2007 to August 2007: worked as an Account Administrator for a physical therapy practice owned by a doctor and his wife (a black couple). Same thing as above, at the end of the day one day she told me they weren’t making money and told me not to return the next day.

November 2007: worked for a few weeks for a black female pediatrician. In addition to receptionist duties, we cleaned the office, took out the trash, etc. When payday came, we had to wait for her for hours to get our pay; sometimes the bank would be closed. One week, we had to keep calling her and could not reach her, and did not get our paychecks until Monday. That was the position that I quit.

July 2010 to July 2011: ended up back at the CDC, this time as an AmeriCorps VISTA member. Same scenario. She expected miracles while giving me grief. That was one long year.

March 2012: slated to work as an office manager for a black man who owned a small but thriving car dealership. It went well for a couple of days, maybe a week. Then he started being sketchy and shady with the hours; I found out he had re-hired his cousin, whom he claimed wasn’t working out and that’s why he needed me. He didn’t even have the guts to come out and tell me I wasn’t needed; I dropped by to check and she was back at the desk.

And so went my attempts at solidarity with my people; 6 jobs over 8 years, laboring to help grow and promote ‘our’ businesses. The result? Either dismissed with no warning, or given such a hard time until productive work was a mere pipe dream. And speaking of dreams, I went in each time with a dream: to work at a place that was black owned and operated, and help the business grow and prosper. For me, that was a fairy tale. I felt used and betrayed, and now I have a sour taste in my mouth; I may never go back to work for another African-American business. And that is a sad and unfortunate feeling to have.

We have gone from literally dying so that we can all have freedom and prosperity as a people, to tearing each other down for self-gain. Don’t get me wrong, we all don’t do behave this way. But the prevalence of such actions sometimes overshadows those of us who are striving to promote solidarity and collective success. It is my hope and prayer, that we get it together and re-unite sincerely, before the crabs rip each other to shreds in that barrel.