Havoc and Mayhem
Page 18
Corbin’s bottom jaw swung open. He had momentarily forgotten that he was dealing with a strong independent black woman who was educated and owned her own home with no qualms about throwing him out on his ass. “No-no my dear you’ve misconstrued what I was saying. I would never disrespect you. In your home, or anywhere for that matter. All I was saying was that perhaps you should consider abandoning such inconsequential concerns. We both know that the people we are speaking about should be doing something much more constructive with their lives. It’s a documented fact that at least seventy percent of men between the ages eighteen through thirty-five of Black and Hispanic descent are either in jail, on probation, or on parole.”
Nicky shook her head sadly. “You really shouldn’t believe everything the media tells you.”
“I don’t and I also don’t throw the race card down at the drop of a hat every chance I get to blame the white man for the dilemma black people are in either. Maybe a few years back, they had a leg to stand on. But now it’s only a crutch. These are the eighties, things are different now.”
“And you truly believe that?”
Corbin brushed some imaginary lint off the sleeve of his expensive sports jacket, “Indeed I do.”
“Even though every four years the President still has to sign the Lynden Johnson 1966 civil rights act so that black men like yourself can be treated what is considered equally?”
“Well of course we still have a ways to go, but there has been some progress. At least we aren’t forced to sit on the back of the bus any longer. And what gets me is what about the Black and Hispanic men that aren’t in jail? They don’t vote! They don’t even care about such matters. All they care about is buying gaudy jewelry whose value depreciates as soon as they put it on and expensive cars that cost more than the homes they live in. It sickens me to no end!”
Nicky could not argue with Corbin there. She had quite a few students who always forgot to hand in their homework assignments but heard them in the cafeteria banging on tables while reciting all the words to latest hit rap song. And it disgusted her that throughout New York there were schools that bore the names of great Black leaders like Paul Robeson and Martin Luther King but failed to live up to the legacy of the person for whom they’re named, but regardless of the fact she was not about to count out her race. Unlike certain people she knew.
“It’s obvious we do not see eye to eye on this subject, so let’s not even continue discussing it Okay?” Nicky said trying to avoid arguing.
“I couldn’t agree with you more. Hey I’ve got a joke for you.” Corbin said attempting to switch the mood.
Nicky sighed. She had a lot of papers to grade and a lesson plan to write but a joke could lift the tension between them. “Okay is it funny?”
“I’ll let you be the judge. Wayne told it to me and the guys the other day and it was uproariously funny.”
“You’re saying Wayne like I’m supposed to know who he is.”
“Darling I’ve mentioned Wayne from work before. Wayne Braithwaite head of marketing? He’s the one I told you who suggested I get a Porsche like his because it makes a bold statement.”
“I guess, let’s just hear the joke.” Nicky said unimpressed.
“Alright, what happens when you stick your hand in a jar of jellybeans?”
“I don’t know, what?” Nicky smiled.
“The black one’s steal your watch!” Corbin said then exploded into laughter. “Don’t you get it? The black one’s steal-”
“Oh yeah, yeah I get it.” Nicky said unable to find the humor in his play on racial stereotypes.
“Oh that’s a riot. It gets funnier every time I hear it.” Corbin laughed rubbing tears from his eyes. He was so amused he failed to realize how unamused Nicky was. “Hold on Wayne told me another one, what do you call a Black-”
Nicky sucked her teeth thinking about what Tommy had said about Corbin standing by the water cooler telling racist jokes about his own kind. “Corbin let me ask you something? Aren’t you the only Black man on your floor? In fact, the only Black Man with a Managerial position?”
“Um-I suppose, unless you count Jackson our Mailroom Manager, but what am I saying, he runs errands and delivers my mail. He doesn’t count. So, I guess it’s safe to say yes. Why do you ask?”
Nicky gathered her things, ticked off. “You have an I.Q. in the triple digits-figure it out.” She said and went into the living room to continue working. Tommy would never hear her admit it, but she was beginning to think he was right about Corbin and his less than real ways.