Aphids in My New Life

After I picked up A Scanner Darkly by PKD, I actually did find aphids on my succulent I keep in my restroom. I won’t lie: aphids are a bit smug. They kind of just sit there smugly, and don’t run or fly away when you try to pick them off. They sort of hop to the side or the other side of the plant stalk.

I called out of work tonight. Problem co-worker #2 was exacting her vengeance against her imaginary adversary who occasionally sometimes resembles my face to her. Working shifts with her literally unnerves me. She literally induces feelings of desperation, existentialism and loneliness. All of which are not present in my life. I’ve read about these types and they literally can affect you physically. I slept the entire day after that shift, and then some even more. It takes so much of my inner focus and concentration to stay my calm, even and solid self when I work with her.

This time it was in the form of reverse racism. I am white. Actually, I am more tan. I have Cherokee ancestors. My old buddy, C_, and bandmate is Sioux, Cherokee, Creek, and maybe one more tribe. My old drummer is Choctaw on his mom’s side and Greek on his father’s. I’ve been accepted in many Native American circles, learning oral traditions passed down. Some of my friend’s parents actually go to Native American churches. Anyway, most of my co-workers are of African ancestry, and we are in The Deep South. Yes, I’ve heard many stories of the horrifying treatment of African Americans that was taking place in The Deep South during the ’60s. B_, a dishwasher I used to work with told me all about how his grandmother would jerk him into the road with her when white folks walked passed in the very same street he was working on now.

I own a copy of W.E.B. DuBois’ Black Reconstruction (an absolute must read for any history buffs who want a more accurate and fuller depiction of American History). Last Valentine’s Day I spent it with a beautiful model type of African decent. She and I laugh and laugh a lot when we go out together. (I’ll actually text her now). You see, I am not from The Deep South. I grew up with mixed cousins. Aunt J_ was African American, and I grew up playing Rampage and other video games with her children, my cousins. H_ was big black man in a wheel chair I used to go to church with. He would take me fishing when I was a young boy, and he gave me one of my favourite pets when I was 8, a mudpuppy. There was a family at my school. She had 8 mixed boys whose names all began with the letter J. My name also begins with J and we were all so very close. The son a bit older than me was also a snowboarder. I remember when iPods were coming out and he would plug in his headphones through the clever holes in his jacket sleeve and jam while he was riding the hills. The son my age was very jovial like myself and we used to watch Dana Carvey’s The Master Of Disguise at their home and laugh and laugh and laugh together. The younger brother’s were all so energetic and fun to play with. We all used to go to the slopes together, and different school trips.

Meanwhile, in the other room at work she had my friend and co-worker by the balls. They were watching Harriett Tubman (a film I would love to see) and my friend was going on about how white people are an evil race, and white people’s ancestors should be dug up and shot again, and how white people took all the good ideas from black folk and used them as their own. I realize my friend was having some moments with someone who had similar roots than him, but I knew that wasn’t what he really meant. He was just under her spell. She is a DSM-5 personality type forming a Trauma Bond with my friend, A_. That would fall under the Histrionic type. He felt bad about it later, and did my work-duties later. Because he knows I am brother who dates sisters occasionally. He saw a picture of my last Valentine and she is definitely a prize.

She, the high-conflict co-worker, is trying to make me engage in conflict and it took every ounce of energy to refrain from engaging in the conversation that was aimed at me. I wanted to bring up one of my favourite novels: I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem that I read in my Caribbean Literature class I took by the President of my college, where a white Jew from Spain (Spoiler Alert!) took Tituba in, and fell in love with her. The Protestants eventually burned his home down killing 10 of his 11 children.

I have other co-workers of African decent who I am close with there who have come out and told me that that small group are just being prejudice against me. One is from Ohio, and she and I are friends and colleagues, and the other one is from here in The Deep South. He is currently at his grandmawmaw’s funeral as I type.

There a good folks everywhere of all different shapes, colours and sizes. Recognize DSM personality types, avoid, and focus on life’s prizes.

Last updated October 07, 2023