Co-worker the No-worker

Scenario: An employee begs co-workers to join her for dinner on her birthday. She orders a bottle of wine and an expensive entrée. The check arrives at the table, and suddenly, the said employee is gazing distantly at the trendy lighting fixtures above our table, eavesdropping in the conversation at the table next to us, starts whistling Dixie, and then pulls a move like our boy, Homer Simpson, and fades to black. I'm thinking to myself, If this heifer excuses herself from this table and conveniently goes to the bathroom, I know somethin’!

The tension mounts and sweat starts to bead up on my brow. I hate awkward situations. It's not so much that I couldn't foot the bill, but it's the principal of the matter. One, I don't know this chick like that to be paying a fourth on a tab upwards of $70 each—not even including our tip. I meannn, sure, we're co-workers… Truth be told, she’s affectionately called, "Co-worker the No-worker." I also pay daily for what she doesn’t do at work…but that's a blog for another time.

I couldn't take it any longer. I snatched the faux leather binder that held the cursed 4x8 golden ticket. It may as well been golden due to the total resembling that of the current market bullion price.

We then had a non-verbal conversation—a silent exchange of pressed facial expressions, extended necks, and raised eyebrows. You gonna pay? Is she gonna pay? Do you see what's going on here? Make this awkwardness stop!

Along with the other self-respected guests, I looked at Co-worker the No-worker who bugged her eyes which is the equivalent to saying, What?  The last thing I wanted to do was make the moment more awkward by having the waiter come back to the table five times to ask if we were ready to settle the tab. We reluctantly proceeded to divvy up the golden ticket into thirds, tipped the waiter, and jetted faster than Cam Newton did from the press conference following Super Bowl 50. This chic had some nerve!  Mind you, she also hijacked the monthly office birthday party as her own, kinda like Elmira did to her pets on the cartoon Animaniacs; it wasn’t polite nor humble.  I thought, If you don't take this strawberry cake from Edgar’s Bakery and go in the corner and color?!  No, we're not changing the designated day set for the office party just for you. No, you don't get to declare this your party and disregard the other two co-workers who are celebrating their birthday as well. Just eat the cake, Anna Mae, and hush!

No one EVER has to worry about me going out with Co-worker the No-worker again. It befuddles me as to how some people have the audacity to be that selfish when it comes to such matters. What if we weren't able to cover her portion? Just to be clear, I wasn't busting suds for anybody.

And, another thing! Did I mention I really don't know her like that? Next time she asks can we pick her up anything for lunch or go out to dinner after work, I'm fading to black like my boy Homer. The choice of whom you break bread with is one that should be approached carefully and cautiously…

Shallow Souls

There is a feeling of something brewing, something imminent on the horizon, something looming around the corner.

My heart rate increases and body temperature elevates. Something is changing, there is a shift taking place. I tell myself to, “Just ride out the waves… It will show its face eventually.”

Could it be? Am I resisting denial?

The billows are rolling in.

“It’s here, you must deal with it!” I say as I grip the shoulders of my conscience.

I’ve ignored the nipping at my heels far too long. No longer can I shoo this monster called Reality away. I succumb to the arrest and temporary torture.

I walk slowly towards the mirror with fetters and chains binding my ankles and wrists.

I squint to see if the reflection is that of one I know.

She “kinda” looks like me… she “resembles” me.

I try to bow my head in shame, but a firm hand grabs me by the nape of my neck squeezing tightly, forcing me to look at the reflection that “resembles” me.

A voice from within yells, “Face it, it’s you!”

Warm tears stream down my flushed cheeks and the taste of salt moistens my lips.

No, you don’t look like you once did. Yes, you look aged beyond your years. How did this happen?

You let yourself go and justified this metamorphosis by hiding behind the walls of traditions of men.

So I packed on the pounds and wore a shroud not keeping up with the trends deciding it’s better to be out than in. My face filled out and waistline expanded. Dimples in my thighs is not what I ever imagined.

“Don’t appear to be desirable… don’t be a stumbling block to your brother!” are comments I hear echoing in my head. I cover my ears tightly as to muffle out the sounds of those who've oppressed me.

I muster the strength to look at this aged face and un-pleasingly plump figure.

As I look in the mirror, my mind reflects on the lost loves over the years.

The Shallow incompetent souls who had not the strength, nor courage to deal with a woman of my fortitude and stature.

Shallow souls that could love me for me behind closed doors, but felt that they could “do better” outside the confines of 8007 Merrill Ave 3^rd. Floor East.

Shallow souls who posed as midnight marauders attempting to steal my esteem and worth.

Shallow souls reminding me of what I used to look like, who I used to “be”

Shallow souls trying to keep a foot on my neck suffocating me with scriptures purposely taken out of context, shielding me from the truth.

Could I too be a shallow soul dodging photo ops and staying out of the limelight?

You are still the same You! You are fearfully and wonderfully made! I boast in this supernatural confidence I have gained.

If I have been granted another day, I have been granted the grace to make this journey back to my confident secure self.

I’m not to be defined by those who are spiritually blind and lack the vision of the One who created me. I now can dance again to the beat of the drum that I once knew so well.

Head raised high, chin up to the sky. Any changes to be made will be made by me as I see fit.

So, goodbye to the fetters and chains. I’m no longer bound.

No more Shallow Souls allowed!