by Mary Monroe
“Well, this is no joke,” Ann said evenly. “Several clients have complained about your telephone manners.” She scanned her spreadsheet. “Here we go. Rude, impatient, abrupt. Ooh wee—we can’t have that!” She clicked her teeth then looked up at me. “You’ve written telephone numbers down incorrectly and mispronounced names. I could go on and on. The bottom line is, Marty worked hard to get this company up and running. He put his own money on the line. I don’t want to see Marty get hurt.” Ann said the last part with what sounded like a sob. Maybe she was sucking Marty’s dick, just like Wendy said. Either that or she was one hell of a house nigger. “We have a reputation to consider. And with the economy being what it is we can’t afford to lose business.” Wiggling in her seat and lowering her voice she added, “And speaking off the record, I think that Affirmative Action has done as much harm as good. I’ve told Marty that many times. My own sister pestered me to get her a job here. There was not a chance in hell of that happening. Can you imagine what it would have been like around here with that greasy slug she was in love with hanging around every payday?”
“Maybe she’d still be alive if she’d had a better job,” I snarled.
Ann let out an exasperated sigh. “I doubt that very much,” she said, looking at her watch. “I am sure you know how White folks think. No matter how friendly they are, they still have that fear in the back of their minds that we are going to make them look bad if they don’t keep an eye on us. And, unfortunately, they are right too often.” Looking straight in my eyes, she said in a stone-cold voice, “Some of us don’t belong in certain work environments.”
“I know just what you mean,” I managed.
“Is there anything else you’d like to say?” she asked with a simmering smirk.
“I don’t think there is anything else I can say. At least not something you’d want to hear,” I sneered. My words didn’t even seem to faze Ann. The smirk that I had come to hate was still on her face.
“Trudy, if you have something else you’d like to say, now is the time to say it. One thing I can say about you is, at least you do want to work. That’s more than I can say for a lot of people, Black or White.”
There were not enough words in the English language for me to say what I wanted to say. I still could not believe what I’d heard so far. Here was this woman telling me that I was being fired for some petty, off-the-wall mistakes that anybody could have made. The irony was, my real crime was ten times worse! It was downright funny. I couldn’t keep from laughing. I threw my head back and cackled like a magpie.
The horrified look on Ann’s face made me laugh even harder.
CHAPTER 50
“Do you think this is funny, Trudy?” Ann asked, her lips quivering. “Is that your response?” She looked at me with her eyes stretched open so wide she looked frightened.
I stopped laughing and gave her a serious look. “I’ll be up out of here in ten minutes,” I said levelly, rising. I looked at my watch, glad it was one of the more expensive items I’d charged to her name.
“Hold on now,” she waved me back to my seat. “You don’t have to leave.”
“Why would I want to hang around here? What else do you have on your agenda? Do you want me to dust the elevator before I go or were you planning on doing that yourself? I know how hard you work to keep Massa Marty happy.”
Ann screwed up her lips and looked at me with contempt. Then, like it took a lot of effort on her part, she folded her arms and reared back in her chair. “You don’t have to be sarcastic.”
“I don’t have to listen to anything else you have to say, either.”
“Trudy, I am not firing you. I am not authorized to do that.”
I had to shake my head and box my ear to make sure I was hearing her right. Her words made my head feel like it had been hit up one side and down the other. “Then what in the hell is this all about?”
“You’d be wise to watch your language, sister. I am not authorized to fire you, but I can persuade Marty to do a lot of things,” she said, shaking a finger at me.
“And I bet he can persuade you to do a lot of things, too,” I hissed, looking at her with my head tilted to the side.
A confused look appeared on her face. “Do you want to tell me what you mean by that?” Ann didn’t let me answer her question. “Never mind,” she said, waving her hand.
Not taking her eyes off me, Ann sucked on her teeth as she picked up her telephone and pecked out an inhouse extension. “Marty, you can join us now.”
In less than a minute Mr. Rydell came stumbling in huffing and puffing. I had not given much thought to Ann’s odd relationship with Mr. Rydell lately. I had gotten used to their curious behavior, like them fawning all over each other and taking three-hour lunches together. I had even gotten used to hearing Ann cuss at Mr. Rydell. A few days ago, Pam saw Ann throw a stapler at him and chase him out of her office. I saw Ann kiss him on his pudgy cheek later that same day.
“Hello, Trudy,” Mr. Rydell said, his moon face looking like a huge strawberry. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. Still huffing and puffing and wringing his pawlike hands, he stood in front of my seat, leaning to the side like an old tree. This was the same man that I had once thought of as appealing in a dark way. He was anything but that now. Now all he was to me was a man with a lot of power who let Ann Oliver have her way because she was probably sucking his dick. “Did Ann explain everything to your satisfaction?” His voice was raspy and hollow, and he was close enough for me to smell his foul breath.
“Do I still have a job or not?” I wanted to know.
“Most certainly! As long as you understand that you must improve in every area outlined in Ann’s performance evaluation,” Mr. Rydell said with a reckless smile. “We believe in giving second chances if we feel an individual has potential.” He cleared his throat and looked at Ann. She shrugged and nodded. “However, because of your shortcomings, we cannot offer to increase your salary at this time.”
I managed to maintain my composure. “What happens now?” I asked. “This is the most interesting job I’ve ever had and I would like to stay here,” I said in the most humble voice I could conjure up.
“Well then, you’ll sign your evaluation indicating that you agree with everything that’s been addressed. And”—Mr. Rydell grinned and clapped his hands together like a lobster—“you are free to return to your workstation. Have a nice day!”
I was still in too much of a state of shock to do anything else but sign the piece of paper Ann waved at me. She signed her name below mine then passed it to Mr. Rydell for him to sign. Then she rose and smiled at me. “I really want to see you succeed, Trudy,” she said, extending her hand for me to shake. I refused to accommodate her so she waved me to the door.
I walked like a zombie to the stairwell. But by the time I reached the first floor I was clip-clopping across the floor like a Clydesdale. Wendy’s head popped out of her cubicle. Pam rushed somebody off the telephone and rose. “What happened?” she demanded, rising from her seat. I ignored Pam as I walked by my desk and didn’t stop until I was in Wendy’s cube.
I gently pushed Wendy aside as I snatched open her drawer and snatched out that popular bottle and a Dixie cup.
Pam rushed over to Wendy’s cube and stood next to her as they watched me.
“What the hell happened?” Pam whispered, looking over her shoulder toward the elevator.
“Ann just gave me my performance evaluation,” I said, twisting the cap back onto Wendy’s bottle as I let out a major belch. Pam massaged her belly and let out a whimper. “Ann wanted to fire me,” I reported, my eyes stuck in one position. I blinked and looked from Wendy to Pam. One looked as horrified as the other.
“That bitch is a . . . a . . . bitch!” Wendy hissed.
“I guess that means you didn’t get your three-month raise?” Pam asked, rubbing my arm.
“I don’t need it. I don’t need it at all,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Wendy look at
Pam and shrug. Pam stood with her arms folded and her mouth hanging open.
The sneer on my face turned into a wicked smile.
CHAPTER 51
I was not surprised when Ann buzzed Wendy instead of me around ten and asked her to go to Starbucks to get her the usual tall mild cup of coffee. As strange as it was to me—especially after my latest round with Ann—I still hoped that Wendy didn’t drop any spit, or anything else into Ann’s coffee.
Just before noon Lupe offered to buy lunch from the deli next door for Mr. Rydell and the other reps. She waddled into the reception area with her pad and pen poised. “Can I get something for you girls, too?” she chirped, paying more attention to me than usual. She batted her eyelashes and spread her lips into such an unnaturally large smile I could see most of her gums. We all knew about Lupe having bags removed from under her eyes, which was why she batted her lashes the way she did. She did that a lot these days, especially in the presence of our male customers. But the big smile was a new part of her ongoing makeover. Nobody had mentioned it, but it was obvious that she’d had her mouth upgraded, too. She had replaced a set of thick gray snaggletoothed choppers with a mouth full of small, pearly white false teeth that looked like they belonged on a doll.
Wendy and Pam leaped at the chance to get a free lunch. They both placed the same order: a grilled cheese sandwich on low-carb bread, Doritos, coleslaw, two brownies each, and Diet Cokes. I shook my head, offering Lupe a weak smile. “I’ll order a few extra snacks anyway in case you change your mind later,” Lupe told me, as she patted my shoulder. The look of pity on her face told me that either Ann or Mr. Rydell had discussed the meeting that they’d had with me. And the way the other reps liked to gobble up gossip, that information had probably been shared with them, too.
As soon as Lupe left, Pam shot from her seat and skipped across the floor to my desk. “Omigod! Lupe got her teeth done!” Pam said in a subdued yell, glancing toward the elevator.
“And it’s about time,” Wendy said with a shrug. “I’m surprised she didn’t have the dentist add any of that gold metallic stuff that the rest of those people have put in their mouths, as if all that grease and beans wasn’t enough. Last week at the flea market there was a tribe of Mexicans walking alongside me and Mark. There had to be at least ten or twenty of them. Every last one, including a little girl in a diaper, had two or three gold-plated teeth,” Wendy announced with a shudder, running a finger across her own front teeth and making a sucking noise.
“No wonder you see them grinning all over the place. They like to show off all that gold. Even on Cops when they’re in handcuffs,” Pam added with a sigh of pity. “Trudy, I see a lot of Black folks running around with those gold teeth, too. Do you know any people like that? I hope not.”
“I’ve seen a lot of people with gold-capped teeth. The only one I know personally is my neighbor Spider’s girlfriend. But she’s White,” I scoffed. Pam and Wendy looked at me with blank faces.
I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. This was one morning when I was not in the mood to listen to the usual catty chatter that Pam and Wendy subjected me to every day.
Dennis Klein had volunteered to pick up the lunch from the deli next door. He walked past my desk with his head bowed and the legs of his baggy suit pants flapping like flags. I didn’t know if his long face was on my account or because his mistress had threatened to dump him. Wendy and Pam continued to share information about Dennis and his affair with me. Letters full of sexual comments and X rated cards from a tacky adult store from his mistress were still being mailed to him at the office. Pam and Wendy still opened them and used a glue stick to reseal them.
When Dennis returned he stopped in front of my desk. “Trudy, I really like having you around. I hope you will be with us for a long time to come,” he said, with a blink and a sniff.
“I will,” I said with a forced smile. One thing I had learned about some people was that when they seemed nicer to you than usual, they had other motives. Dennis was no different.
“Uhhhh . . . Trudy, I’m expecting some correspondence from a . . . uh . . . client named Nancy . . . Myers. Uh, it’s coming by FedEx so when it arrives, would you deliver it to me immediately?”
I saw Pam’s eyes widen as she focused her attention in my direction. “Of course,” I told Dennis.
Knowing that I was still in a funky mood, Wendy and Pam didn’t badger me much for the details of my meeting with Ann and Mr. Rydell. Instead, they spent their time trying to figure out why Dennis’s mistress was sending him something by FedEx. The more time passed the calmer I felt.
Three hours had passed since my meeting with Ann and she had not shown her face on the ground floor yet. When I had to deliver the FedEx package that Dennis had been expecting, Ann was in his office. She occupied the wing chair facing his desk. She was so kicked back with her shoes off and her jacket draped across the back of the chair, you would have thought that she was in the comfort of her own home. She ignored me completely.
“Trudy, I appreciate your help. By the way, I didn’t realize that National Secretaries Day was last month!” Dennis exclaimed with a guarded glance in Ann’s direction. “My wife brought it to my attention. She used to be a secretary so she knows how important that day is to the clerical community. I’d like to treat you to a belated lunch soon,” Dennis said, his eyes darting from my face to Ann’s. “Let me know when you are available, please.”
“I will. And thank you,” I said sweetly. For a split second Ann’s eyes met mine, but she quickly looked away as if it hurt her to look at me. I hoped it did because if things went the way I wanted them to go, I was going to become her worst nightmare. The only thing about that was she would never even know.
I’d spent my entire lunch hour in the park down the street sitting on the bench I’d become so familiar with. I cursed because I had left my cell phone at home so I couldn’t talk to Freddie until on the bus home. I was in such a bleak mood that I ignored one of the homeless, nameless men who had come to expect a generous handout from me as he approached my spot with a long face and an empty can.
The rest of the afternoon dragged by so slowly that at one point I thought my watch and the big clock on the wall had both stopped at the same time.
My mind was a cesspool of confusion. I didn’t know what to think about anything. One minute I was thinking about James, glad that I had him to fall back on. The next minute I was thinking about my job and how I was not going to give it up without a fight. I could not wait to get some advice from Freddie. Even though I knew that no matter what my girl advised me to do I was still going to deal with my situation the way I wanted to.
Freddie was not at the bus stop when I got off work and she didn’t answer her cell phone when I tried to call her from a pay phone on the corner. I rode home alone in a daze. Instead of going home, I went straight to Freddie’s apartment.
“Where’s Freddie?” I asked LoBo when he cautiously cracked open the door, cradling his two-year-old son LoBo Jr.
“She had a hair appointment. Her and some of her girls from the beauty shop suppose to be at Harvey’s gettin’ drunk,” he told me. “What you been up to, sister girl? How are things goin’ at work with that bitch?”
“LoBo, I need your help again,” I blurted, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I felt so heavy I could barely stand without leaning. He led me into Freddie’s cluttered little living room where he gently placed the baby on the couch. “You are not going to believe what that woman tried to do to me.”
“Oh, yes, I would,” he chuckled. “I deal with women like Ann Oliver on my route all the time. I haul garbage, but I ain’t garbage. You would think I was, though, if you heard some of the shit I put up with. So, yes, I would believe whatever it is you got to tell me about that wench you work with.” LoBo gave me a brief hug. “Make yourself at home, sister, and lemme get you a drink. You sure look like you could use one.” LoBo disappeared into the kitchen and I dialed Freddie’s cell phon
e again. She answered on the first ring. “I need to talk to you.”
“What’s up?” Freddie slurred. I could hear reggae music in the background.
“When are you coming home?” I asked. I clutched the telephone in my hand so hard I got a cramp.
“Not for a while. Today’s Sarah’s birthday. You know, the sister who does my hair. Why don’t you come over here and join us so you can tell me all about it.”
“I will. But I’m at your place with LoBo right now. I need to discuss a few things with him first.” I glanced at LoBo. “I hope you don’t mind.” One thing I knew for sure was that Freddie trusted me. Even though LoBo had been unfaithful to her she knew that there was no way in hell I’d ever do anything inappropriate with her man. And I felt the same way about her and my man. But I knew how James felt about Freddie. She could get in the bed with him naked and he wouldn’t touch her body with a torch.
“As long as he doesn’t mind, I don’t mind.” Freddie sighed. “Take care of your business and come on over to Harvey’s when you finish. We’ll keep the bar warm,” Freddie said.
It took me three beers and an hour to tell LoBo everything that Ann had said to me. I’d repeated the worst parts with so much emphasis, LoBo offered to have some of his homeboys burglarize Ann’s residence. “That heifer workin’ both sides of the street, ain’t she?” LoBo said, scratching his head. “If I was you, I’d teach her a lesson she’d never forget.”
“Well, she’s too slick for me to come up with a plan that’ll hit her where it hurts,” I snarled. That was the problem. I had to keep reminding myself that there was no lesson I could teach Ann that I could let her know about. Sure, I wanted to scratch her eyes out, but losing my job and getting arrested for assault didn’t appeal to me. Something told me that she was the type who would have me arrested rather than fight me back. I knew I wouldn’t rest until I got back at her in a major way, whether she knew about it or not.
