Kinbaku-bi

We Vs. Them

After another day of entrusting Mr. Willie to drop my child off to school safely, I make my way back to the front door. I look over to my neighbor's yard, then glance back to mine. I need to get this grass cut as soon as possible. I didn't even notice that "Crazy Karen" and her Shih Tzu were out in their yard. She gave me a look of disgust as if I didn't have the right to look at her grass, let alone in her direction. Often after getting off work, I'd catch her peeping through her distasteful curtains to see if I am robbing my own house. Pathetic. I guess that's what happens to you when you sit at home all day and depend on the media to portray black people with dignity and respect. I'm convinced she's never seen a black person close in person before in her life until she saw my family. My household is the only black household on our block. I don't take pride in that; I just wanted to create a better life for my son and now ex-wife, and we have it.

There's another household of color in our neighborhood as well, but they're racially ambiguous. I'd like to think that they're black too. I push through my pettiness and muster up a great (fake) smile and tell Karen good morning while simultaneously going into my house. I close the door behind me, lean my back against it, and exhale. The things we have to do to preserve our peace and our lives. Exhausting it is to have to always try to make them comfortable.

I begin to head upstairs so I can start getting ready for work. Before I place my foot on the first step, I scan the stairs to ensure no more Legos are on them. Thankfully there wasn't. This morning almost began with me having a sprained ankle.

Time is now 8:58 a.m., and I need to be at work by 9:45 a.m. I enter my room and go into my walk-in closet. Half of it is empty since Sabrina moved out all of her stuff. She didn't waste any time. The engineering firm I work for is filled with primarily white, middle-aged men, who can't dress to save their lives. They typically will wear their polyester polo shirts with untailored khakis and loafers. Here I am, a masculine-presenting, black lesbian showing these men how it's done. I take pride in the clothing I wear because growing up in a Haitian household made it difficult for me to simply be me. I had to hide behind a facade for years. Now, I dress how I want.

My weather app says that it's 78 degrees Fahrenheit currently. It's still early, so I am sure the weather will reach at least 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Do I want to wear a long sleeve or short sleeve shirt? If I wear a short sleeve, all of my coworkers will look at my tattoo-covered arms. Do I want that? Do I care? The answer is hell no. I've been working for this company for years, and Josh wears short sleeve shirts all the time, and no one says anything to him. So I'm going to go with the short sleeve today. I'm going to keep it simple today since it's a Tuesday.

White short-sleeved, button-up shirt. Check. Now for my pants. I always like to have my pants tailored to my liking. I hit the squats a lot at the gym, so I realize that I am a little blessed back there. I don't want my pants to be too tight on my ass, but I also don't want them to be loose to the point that it will throw my look off. A perfect medium is what I go for. My favorite pants are the plaid pattern ones. They make a statement: not too obnoxious, but stands out just enough. I want to wear my brown penny loafers today, so I need to choose an earthy color. I'll go with tan, plaid pants. They have a hint of brown in them, too, so they match perfectly. Pants are on, check. Loafers are on, check. Now belt or suspenders? I just remembered the thought of Mr. John wearing suspenders and a belt. So tacky. Belt it is.

I go into my master bathroom and pick up my brush and mirror. I need to schedule a haircut appointment this week; my fade is growing out again. I brush my waves down, then use my hands to lay them in place. I spray a little of my cologne on, take one final look at my outfit, and turn off my bathroom light. I reach onto my nightstand to grab my laptop. These past few weeks, I've been working at home a lot because pretty soon, I'm going to be promoted to team supervisor at my firm. This means more money, but also a little more responsibility. I'll always take on a challenge. I place my laptop into my leather backpack, grab my keys, wallet, and put on my Apple Watch.

Time is now 9:29 am, so I start up my truck from my remote key. It's getting hot already, so I need my vehicle to air out before I get in it. I go downstairs, open the fridge, grab a smoothie and fruit cup, and head on about my day. I arm my alarm system as I'm walking out to my garage through the kitchen. *Beep beep beep* I locked the door behind me, hop into my truck, open the garage door, and place my truck into drive. Before I drive off, I have to have pull-off Music: Far Away by Kindred and the Family Soul.