Segregation

I'm here to tell you that segregation is alive and well. At least it is at my job. I guess it always has been, but I took break at a different time yesterday, with people I don't know, and realized how much birds of a feather truly flocked together. And its not just race, although that is a big factor as well. Here are some of the cliques I noticed...

The Black Group - You'll conversations about For The Love of Ray J, Beyonce and 'em.

The White Group - Usually talking in hushed tones about Obama or Bill O'Reilly. They are out numbered, so they usually huddle together when the topic is controversial.

The Asians - Talking about computers or something.

The Latinos- Don't really know what they are talking about because they alternate between English and Spanish.

Samoans - Do the Humpty Hump.. Do the Humpty Hump... (Just kidding, their aren't any Samoans, but do you remember in that song when randomly bust out with Samoans? Ridiculous..)

Then it breaks down even further....

The Black Hot Girls - These are the ones wearing the tight jeans and heels in the summer, or the tight jeans and furry boots in the winter. They always got their hair done and are talking on the phone or to each other about going out to some club where a celebrity is gonna be.

The Dominican Hot Girls - Always seem angry. Always for some reason sound like they are from New York. Can be heard cursing some one out in English and Spanish loudly. Quick to call the person they are talking to on the phone "stoooopid."

The Black Gay Guys - They sound like a walking stereotype. Many "giirrrrls" and lispy talking about American Idol.

The Black Straight Guys - Sports, Women, Music all day, every day.

The Seth Rogan White Guys - They look like the guy from Knocked Up with the scruffy beard, slacker look. Talking about electronics and World of Warcraft. They are sarcastically funny and never cease to crack me up with their strange sense of humor.

The Mom Jeans group -Talk about their mini vans, or home improvement shows or something that their kid did at school.

The Real Lesbians - look like a guy, talk like a guy, dress like a guy. talk about girls booties.

The Fake Lesbians - look like a girl, talk like a girl, dress like a girl. like girls (most of the time).

The Big Girls - for some reason they all hang out together.

The Storytellers - doesn't matter what race they are, they all hang out together. In the course of 15 minutes you can hear them competing to see who has the most outrageous story. I don't think they even listen to each other, just waiting for a lull to start talking.

The Black White Girls - always talking about how fly Rashan is. How can they get Rashan? Why wont Rashan talk to me? LOL

The Rashan - always by himself. Either on the phone or got the iPod playing. People from all groups talk to him, especially when he doesn't want to hear what they have to say allowing him to notice and document the many different segregated groups at work. Wants to be segregated, but they wont let him. LOL


Is your workplace segregated? What are some of the groups you see at your job?

5 Days

5 Days of blogging? It used to be nothing to me, but I think its been months since I did it. Well, this week, I'm going back to my roots. I'm gonna blog M-F. I promise. Wait, I don't promise, because something could happen but I'm gonna do my darnedest. I even got some stuff in my drafts to help me through. Is that cheating? Not sure, but I am sure that I don't care. This ain't no competition. If it is, then it's solely in my head. Nobody is out there competing with me. At least, I don't think they are. Are you? Are you getting satisfaction from my lack of blogging. Do you think you can beat me? Is that a challenge? Oh, it's like that? Okay, it's on...

Well, obviously you can tell, I'm feeling silly right now. And I know this was a lackluster first post, but I'll do better during the week. I just got in from Gainesville, and the other day, I drove to Savannah, before driving to Gainesville. I've been in the car way too much this weekend to come up with a good post right now. So, I'll call it a night, and write something better tomorrow.

PS - Anybody doing good in their NCAA brackets? I'm done. I suck. Memphis and Duke were supposed to play for the title. The only final four team I picked correctly was UConn. And my favorite team Syracuse is out. I'm ready for football season now. LOL

Kids and Cars

I need to have some kids. If I do, then my mom will give me a car. I know that sounds like a terrible reason for procreating, but it's true. In my family, if you have children, you'll get a car. My mom loves her grandchildren, and will do anything for them. But those of us without kids....

It started with my sister. Maybe about 5 years ago, something or other happened to her car. What happens? My mom and her husband gave her one of their cars. A couple of years ago, my brother and his wife needed another car. What happens? They give them one of their cars. One of my mom's husbands daughters is driving their old (well, used, but not old) van. She got kids too. Last week, My mom's husbands ex son in law, who has custody of his kids, gets another one of their extra cars after the funeral. (Not to mention, the 300Z that he was restoring for their 8 year old that's in storage now.) I know it seems like they have cars for days. It seems like that to me too. I just can't get one of them, because I don't have any seeds.

I'd like a free vehicle. Do I have to impregnate somebody in order to get one? I mean shouldn't I be rewarded for not adding to the overpopulation of the world? Just because I didn't borrow somebody's uterus for about 9 and a half months, does that mean that I have to pay for my own car? I mean, I always wanted to be married before I had kids, but for the right car I can have a bastard or two. LOL

The Savannah Drafts...

I've been in Savannah since Sunday night with my family. As you read, my mom's husband passed away, and I've been helping out with arrangements and stuff like proofreading and rewriting obituaries, cleaning out the garage, playing with kids, and just serving as general interference for the crazy that accompanies funerals. Lots of stuff has happened, but I havent had the time or energy to write about it all. Well, I started a few, but never finished them. Here are a few incomplete posts from this week.

Going Green... (Tuesday)

Savannah is crazy for St Patrick's Day. I think they have the worlds second biggest parade after New York. Every thing is green here: Green beer, green grits, green water in the fountains, hideous green blazers on the news anchors. Even the local newspaper went green. As in it was printed on green paper. If I hear one more thing about a leprachaun or pinches for not wearing green, I'm gonna lose it... (That's as far as I got. I was gonna tell a story about how I used to pick peoples pockets at the St Patrick's Day Parade or how when I was 8 I found out I had some Irish in me, so I had a Shamrock pinned on my jacket.)

The Savannah High Doppelganger (Wednesday)

Remember a couple of weeks ago when I wrote about how I have a twin in Atlanta, that people seem to know, but can't remember his name. Well, apparently I have one in Savannah as well. I went to get my haircut today, and deliberately went to a shop that I've never been too. I wasn't in the mood for a reminiscing session. Anyway, as I'm sitting in the chair, one of the barbers asks me: "Did you go to THE High?" (THE High = Savannah High School.) I didn't, and I informed him that I didn't. You know the next question out of his mouth... "Are you sure?" I didn't even say anything. Then he remembers more about this person he thought I was. "Yeah, you kin to that cop that comes in the shop." No, that's not me. I don't have any police in my family. I think I would know what high school I went to, and if one of my relatives was 5-0. (That's as far as I got...)

You Know What I Don't Care About??? (Wednesday)

...your church. I don't care that you want to talk at the funeral, but have to clear it with your pastor first. Just do it. I'm not gonna make any donations, just to get you on the program. If you feel like you have something to add, then do it, but don't try to extort any loot. That's not only distasteful, its revealing that you have an overly inflated sense of worth. One monkey don't stop no show. Be out for all I care... Also, I'm not gonna mention the name of church next to your name on the program. Let's do that at your funeral. When you die, we'll shout out the name of church. Why do you think that is part of your title. Like Pastor Jenkins ain't enough, I got to call you Pastor Jenkins of the Mount Ebeneezer African Baptist Church of God and Jesus in Calvary... (Then I stopped because I was getting worked up and was about to be ugly to the church going folk.)

Thanks, No Hugs Please (Thursday)

Yo, one of the worst things about funerals is all the hugging. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind my mom and my grandma hugging me, but all these extraneous people that I don't know trying to embrace me??? You can have that. I'm just not one for strangers and virtual strangers touching me. (You know what.. I think I'll finish this one. I have some funny sarcastic comments and stories to tell on this one...)

He's Gone

That's the text message I received at 4:59 PM yesterday informing me that my mother's husband had died. He'd been in the hospital for close to a month, and it was expected, but that didn't make it any easier hearing my mom cry. I don't really have anything to say, except I'll be going to Savannah this weekend to help out. Talk to you some time next week...

I Used To...

Want to live in Atlanta. Just something about having the 404 area code and actually having ATL in my address instead of Smyrna or Decatur seemed cool. Like it would make me a true Atlien... Yeah, scratch that. I don't like the city. I mean it's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there. Let's put aside my proclivity for getting lost whenever I'm in the city, which really can't be put aside since it happens all the time. I don't want to live in the city, because its mad unsavory characters hanging around. Crackheads, beggars, homeless people. You name it and I've seen them over the last couple of days hanging out downtown.

It amazes me how close the riff raff is to the nice stuff. Like you'll have condos in gated communities with panhandlers hanging outside. Or you'll drive next to a skyscraper for a financial giant and see a bunch of homeless guys on the street. Or you'll be in a public park where people take their children to play, and see people cracked out. Yeah, I'm good on living in the city. Call me bourgousie, I don't too much care. I'm not trying to live somewhere where I can be robbed stepping out of my apartment.

The final straw was tonight. I was picking up Jameil from her friends crib downtown. On the way home, I saw a woman in a wheelchair, with no legs, wheel herself into the middle of the street and ask for cars for change. The light turned green, but she was still in the middle of the street between two lanes of traffic. It was mad dangerous. I looked up at the Atlanta skyline and realized, this ain't for me. I don't have that much change to spare. I'll take the suburbs any day. At least where I live, the only cats begging are at the gas station, and now that gas is under $2 I don't see that too much anymore.

Red, Black & Green

Red Black and Green:

They used to be my favorite combination of colors. I had a hat in those colors. I rocked an Africa Medallion with those colors. They symbolized Africa to an African-American. The Red’s for the blood, and the black’s for the man, the green is the color that stands for the land. That was in some song I used to love, I think it was the Jungle Brothers, but if I stop to figure it out, I’ll get sidetracked and not finish this post. Red, Black and Green were the colors of the African National Congress. Free Mandela and all that. It was to me as much of a political statement as it was a fashion statement. But like most fashion statements, it went out of style.

I blame Cross Colours. Everybody, their mama, and their illegitimate play cousin used to rock these. This was the first readily accessible hip hop gear. No matter where you lived in the country, you could get that style. The clothes were baggy, and when they first came out, they had my favorite colors. Red, Black and Green. They eventually moved on to other hideous combinations of colors, but my favorite of course were the Red, Black and Green. I never actually had any, but I sure wanted some. That was of course before everybody started wearing them. It went from just the hip hop kids and the conscious kids, to the preppy kids that watched Yo! MTV raps and thought they were down and the weird stoner kids that smoked weed in the parking lot between classes. People started making imitation Cross Colours and before you knew it, them joints got played out pretty quickly and along with it, the Red, Black and Green.

I say all that to say this…

This dude down the way from me is wearing a Cross Colours shirt. It’s Red on the left, Green on the right, with a BOLD Black stripe down the middle. Where da heck did he find that shirt in the 2000’s. Gotta be Burlington Coat Factory or some corner shop in the city. Why, oh why don’t I carry my camera with me at all times???

The Tri-Cities Doppelganger

Apparently I have a doppelganger somewhere in Atlanta. People keep asking me if I went to Tri-Cities High School. Yeah, I didn't. The thing that bugs me the most, is that dumb question that follows: Are You Sure???. Of course, I'm sure. Like I don't know where I went to school. Or if I decided to lie about it, then why would I change my answer just because you asked a second time. The first time I noticed this was this girl at my job. I noticed she was staring at me, but not in that normal "Rashan, I want you" kinda way. LOL. Anyway, I had no idea who she was, but finally after a few days, she decided to speak. This was over a year ago.

"Did you go to Tri Cities?"

"Nah, I didn't go to school up here."

"Are you sure?"

See, that stupid question. I was pleasant about it, but she asked me several more times over the coming months. Apparently, I look just like him. I mean, obviously I wasn't who she was looking for unless I changed my name, or if she never knew that guys name either. A few months later, somebody else asked. This time a guy at the office:

"Ay, dawg. You look real familiar. Did you go to Tri-Cities?"

"Nah."

"You sure?"

Son, come on! I just told you that I didn't go there. I went to school in Savannah. I don't know who this dude is, and whether he owes you money, but I'm not him. Could you please stop looking at me? Again, I'm wearing a name tag. Is Rashan Jamal that dude's name? No, then I guess you can stop giving me that skeptical look.

Then today: I'm getting my hair cut at this barber shop that I've never been to. I'm sitting there getting my hair when the barber asks me.

"You mind me asking where you from?"

"I'm from Savannah."

"Oh, cuz I was about to say, you look just like this n*gga I went to Tri Cities with."

"Nah, wasn't me."

"You sure, my n*gga? That cat, I can't remember his name, but he had that good hair like you."

"Yeah, man pretty sure it wasn't me."

For real, I wonder who this nameless dude is and why these people who are at least 5 years younger than me think I'm him. Apparently, they know him, but they can't remember his name and he must look an awful lot like me. To be honest, I don't even know where Tri-Cities High School is. The only reason I know what it is from an Outkast song. I didn't grow up in Atlanta, didn't move here until I was 25, and I don't know these people. I only hope that my doppelganger doesn't go committing any crimes and send the police my way. Seems like it would be hard to convince them that I'm not him...

It's Snowing In The A!!!

Real snow too. I would show it to you, but my dumb behind bought the wrong size batteries and I'm not going back out on the roads today. My little jaunt to Subway and CVS was enough driving for me. The roads are slushy, but drivable. People just were either driving way too fast or way too slow. An accident waiting to happen. So yeah, no pictures of the snow, so you'll just have to believe me when I say, we got some real snow. Perhaps we can have a snow day tomorrow and I can stay home from work. Doubtful, but I didn't think it would actually snow either, so I'll just keep my fingers crossed. I got food, and internet and TV, and a phone, so I'm all good chillin in the house for a day or three. LOL

Okay, off to go throw some snowballs at passing motorists like we used to do when I was a kid. Holla at you later.