Fire

I know it’s been a minute since I’ve posted. I have so many reasons why. So many thoughts and wondering roaming in my dome but nothing I really want to share. Yet.

However, something is royally pissing me off at the moment. And I’m about 2 seconds from saying something. And probably lose my job in the process. So I sat to write. Let my fingers do the talking.

To set up the scene, my boss is in Europe. We have business there and he went to check on “our” interests there. He’s been gone since last week. And everyday he’s been gone, Pinky has been all up in here. May I remind you that Pinky doesn’t actually work for my company? Yeah, as in he’s not on the payroll. He’s an investor who attracts others with his kind of dough and by his kind of dough I’m talking multiple estates, trust funds for not born yet great great great grandchildren kind of wealth. Since The Brit (my blog name for my boss) has been gone, Pinky has been up in here acting like he owns the place. The rest of us just roll our eyes and keep doing what we have to do. But Pinky has really been testing me the past couple of weeks. Asking me to do shit that has absolutely nothing to do with the company, talking all kinds of out of pocket foolishness. I’ve checked him (politely of course) but sometimes I have those Ally McBeal moments where I visualize pounding his head on my credenza over and over and over and over and…..whew. I must admit. I was taking it personal. Being the only woman and the only person of color with a company does something; chinks away at the professional armor a little bit. It’s not like I haven’t been in an “only” situation before. I’ve just never been the only woman, only black person, and only person under the age of 45 all at the same time. But I digress.

Pinky’s wife came into the office today. While I’ve spoken to her a few times on the phone, I’ve never met her. Until today. As I’ve stated before I’ve always wanted to meet the woman who keeps this man in pink clothing and accessories. (sidebar: he hasn’t been wearing full on pink for a while but he still wears those damn pink glasses from time to time). She’s so petite was my first thought. This itty bitty thing makes this barrel of a man don pink clothes??? So we exchanged pleasantries. Gave her my best prep school persona and went back to eating my yummy salad. She walks over to the guest office where her husband is on a call. And what I heard next damn near knocked me out of my swivel chair. He begins to berate her. While I couldn’t hear all of the conversation, (I do have work to do you know), it was quite clear that she was not in favor. The tidbits I heard involved words like “stupid” and “it’s all your fucking fault”. And for some reason, her picking at her “damn fingernail polish” seem to really set him off as I’ve heard him admonish her at least a dozen times for it.

Helllooo, this is an office, a place of business. Save your domestic shit for your residence. To save some face, I went to close the door to the guest office. He looked up and shot me a look but I think my expression clearly said “I wish you would!” and I turned on my brown tall stiletto boots before his nonverbal could respond to mine.

I returned to my office fuming. First of all, why is he berating his wife in an office? Secondly, who gave him permission to treat her that way?? Lastly, there ain’t shit I can do about it, so why is it burning a fire in my belly? As I sit here typing, Mrs. Pinky has since quietly walked out of the guest office and is waiting for her husband at our small conference/lunch table. I know they are having problems at home with their younger son and I can feel the weight of the stress emanating from her slouched shoulders. Add to that the weight of her dick head of a husband, can you blame her for looking so……dejected???

If I ever have to choose between wealth and respect, I’ll be financially broke for the rest of my life.
I’m off to make some tea. Maybe that will quiet this fire in me.