Unknown

October 15th

If last night wasn't so tiring I probably would have had a better day, I would have smiled at the woman that gave me my coffee this morning, she's was nice in the way that New Yorkers normally are. I see her there often but this time I couldn't say thank you I couldn't even tip her, I only nodded and began to make my way to the next available subway so I could get to work on time. I also probably would have gotten up from my seat for the older woman that was standing on the subway. She seemed tired, her shoes look worn out and she's gripping the pole for dear life, yet I didn't have enough energy to get up for her. But most importantly, I wouldn't have went off on that lady at the convenience store this evening.

Once I got to work everyone greeted me, the woman at the front desk asked me "Did you get enough sleep last night? you look more like a raccoon than usual" she snickered at her own comment, I could only frown with my eyes and shake my head. she replied "Aww, well do you need some -?" she raises her coffee cup as she looks over at the cup sitting in my hand, she then looks into my eyes, smiles and then we both nod. I leave to walk around the office some of my closer coworkers noticed I was talking even less than I normally do. I had to reassure them with a thumbs up and a slight sip of my coffee that all was well.  

As I arrived to my desk, it was covered with the left over swatches and an unfinished mannequin from the day before. All I could do is sigh and put my stuff down. My brain feels fried and last night has left me distraught. Even now, the one place that is suppose to make me content, now felt with discomfort and a cold cup of coffee. I finally start my work as I mentally prepare myself for the long day ahead.

While making my rounds today I realized I had forgotten to pack myself a lunch, I looked over at the clock that was on the wall across the office it just hit a quarter past noon. My stomach looked at me and me at it and we both realized the money in my pocket was only enough to grab us a cheap sandwich from the convenience store that's, conveniently, across the street from the office.

 I groan as I get up from my seat, I walked over to the far side of the office, knocked on the glass window and peaked my head inside my managers office. She always wears designer clothes and still makes it look completely atrocious. But who am I to judge a woman that makes millions, I let her know I'm going on break to taking a quick thirty. She responds by not caring to look up from her computer and nods her head passively. 

I leave out the door, looking both ways as I cross the street and eagerly hoping that my favorite sandwich is laying in wait for me in a plastic container with a cheap price on it. I step into the convenient store and was lazily greeted by an employee that is standing in-front of the register. She, if you can believe me, looked more annoyed to be at work than I did at my own job. I responded to her greeting with a yt person smug grin and started making my way to the back of the store. 

There it is, sitting in a plastic container sealed shut by a sticker inside of a small refrigerator, a bacon, egg and cheese croissant probably melted by a hairdryer or thrown around in the back of a truck frozen and then re-heated but to me, it looked like it was made b y spongbob squarepants himself, a perfect masterpiece. I'm glad to see it was only for $4.50, I eagerly picked it up and made my way to the counter. 

What was completely empty a few moments ago is now completely full of people. Again, I groan as my excitement disappears. I proceed to get in line and wait like the rest of them. That's when I over hear a conversation being had at the front register.

I peer over the heads of the two people in-front of me to get a look at a short, middle-aged, white woman, with a classic dirty blonde bob and old navy jeans paired with a horrible Lane Bryant top and a pair of Sketchers. 

Typical 

I thought to myself.

I proceeded to roll my eyes and avert my attention to something more exciting than yet another yt woman trying to make the underpaid black employee feel her "wrath". Like the fact that they sell toilet tissue here but there is never any in the store's bathroom, needless to say, astounding. As my thoughts wander off they at some point focus on the events from last night, my headache starts to come back and I realize I should have bought an espresso today instead. Suddenly my stomach looks at me again and I give it another sigh. I look down at the watch sitting on my wrist and find out that I only have 20 more minutes left to find a corner in the break room to heat up and eat my gloriously buttered croissant and this woman is standing in our way. Needless to say  this is making me, like my stomach, very irritated. 

I look up at the employee at the front register giving her the Black People (BP) look that says, 

Man whats taking so long? She's tripping, can we hurry this up?

she then looks back at at me from over everyones heads, giving me back the

Pshhhhh F*ck if know, I'm trynna deal with it, gimme a minute 

She then looked back at the woman slightly annoyed because she has to focus her energy back on the woman thats screaming at her. The lady then realizes the employee is looking behind her, she turns around to look back at me the tall and only black person in line. Then with the most horrendous look on her face, wait I think that is  just her face, she proceeds to says out of her mouth "You think he's going to save you? That stupid nigg*r can't fix the problem that you made, all of you are just stupid N*ggers that don't know how to do your job right" She turns  back towards the employee and chuckles at her own comment. 

My eye brows raised. Trying to dismiss her comment I scoff at what the woman says, the employee, also had her brows raised taken back from what this woman said to her. At the sound of my scoff the lady turns around looking as if I had called HER a derogatory term. In disbelief she says "What is it? Got something to say? NIGG*R!?" 

I let the word ring in the air for a second. She looked justified like nothing I could say would over power the word that left her lips. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting go of what little I had left of my self-control. If there is one thing I don't like, especially after what I just went through, it's being belittled.

The store went quiet after those words bounced off of every conceivable wall in this very small store. I then unconsciously opened my eyes and gave her what my friend's call my "dead stare." 

Its when my eyes open really wide and my face is very still but I have a slight evil grin at the corners of my mouth. I never break eye contact with "my victims" I think their being overdramatic, but for context clues I'm going to use the term.

I look the woman in the eyes with my "dead stare" as I make my way around the two people in front of me. I softly say "excuse me, I don't mean to be rude like some people" her face looks less confident and self assured and more scared and guilty as I make my way towards her. Then as I finally meet face to face with the woman, I now stand a foot in front and several inches above her looking down at last I say

"Oh, I bet you felt really powerful saying that word, did you?" she starts to stutter "Well I-" I start to lean over her pushing her up against the rack of gum that is normally placed underneath the front of the register. I place my right hand on the counter and stare into her eyes as I say 

"Well let me break it to you, that word has zero affect on me, you can articulate that word, use it in a sentence, look up the definition, find its origin and I still wouldn't care. You are only a momentary speck of life in a most unforgiving universe of different infinite realities. Now playing this very moment in an infinite number of ways and you, the woman wearing a horrid excuse for over washed old navy jeans is praying on a man that hasn't gotten in your way until now, saying a word that has absolutely no effect on him, creating a perfect display of white fragility in-front of people that, just like me until a few seconds ago, just want to get on with their day. So if you could, irrelevant soccer mom, so kindly as to move the actual F8CK out my way. I'm absolutely famished." 

I give her a smug grin as I shove my left hand into my pocket, gripping all the money I had in there and slam it on the counter, then with both hands on either side of her I drop my smile, shove my hands off the counter and walk out the door. 

I believe the only thing that really sucked about that whole interaction was that I'm pretty sure I gave that employee $9, which I could have used to buy a second croissant for later on tonight. But my head feels like mud, my eyes are lower than my nose at this point and every little thing has gotten me to my absolute limit. So I make my way back to work praying that my night doesn't spiral and end up being like the one before it.

Someone anyone pray for me..