stop snitchin' stop lyin'

Sorry I've been gone world, but for the last few weeks I have been working a temporary job. That's right, ya boy, the militant Malcom Mac signed up a a temporary staffing agency, to fill the void of being broke before school starts back up. It's not so bad, the pay was decent, and it comes every week, without that delay of a week that normal jobs have.

But, that's not what I'm hear to talk about. One day the boss and I were riding to Burger King for lunch, and he said something that just floored me. Now mind you, for this time I had been there 3 or 4 days already, and was already sick of the place. Another important fact, the Mac man could care less about these odds and ends jobs. I just do them to make the ends meet when I hit some rough times. *Number one rule for the Mac man when working a temp job is, NEVER ASK A WHY QUESTION!* WTF does it matter to me? So long as I will be safe doing it, and won't have to swallow my pride, I can do any job, I could care less. Not only does the boss not really want to explain why, but I really just don't care.

Now, boss man must have taken this as a good thing. He tells me in the car, "You know, I asked for you back specifically because you get the work done, and don't ask lots of questions that make it seem like you disagree with what I am saying, or questioning why I am doing things. By the time it gets down to your level, I have had so many discussions w/ the bosses, that what you think or say really won't change anything, instead it will just cause hard feelings."

At first, I took this like a compliment. Hell, he wasn't lying on me, I didn't ask a question cause I could give a damn. Hell for the first 3 days I didn't even know what the company did, all I know is that the job paid. Everyone likes to be hailed as a model employee, and I am no different. But as the day went on, I started thinking what he did was a sneaky maneuver to keep me quite. It's like Pavlovian training (Pavlov's dog for those who don't know what I'm talking about). Reward one for not asking questions, and they will continue to do the same. I'm not stupid, I want to reserve the right to ask whatever question I feel like when I feel like it. Tell me I'm a good employee because I'm productive, not because I don't bother you. Rewarding people for not talking will only cause problems in the long run.

Case in point, Busta Rhymes. In order to maintain his "street cred" he cannot be called a snitch. Well, he may have witnessed a murder, but if he tells the cops, then he is a snitch, and snitches don't sell records, and therefore he won't get paid, and hell just be a broke dude w/ a horrible acting career and a bunch of expensive chains (think Mr. T here). So don't snitch, go platinum, keep your street cred as never working with the cops, but let your homie die in vain.

I've lost my point here. But it was something like, was the boss telling me I'm a productive worker who didn't talk to keep me quiet, or to promote me becoming a dumb assembly line manufacturing idiot? Either way I ain't taking that. Where's my rifle?

Brotherhood Smoke

As has become ritual, after the last exam per every block, me and the homie Kevlar take a trip to the cigar bar, where we get a stogie and a drink, then proceed to decompress from another exam. Normally it's just me and the homie, but occasionally we will bring in others, just for a little variety. Well, we had to postpone the smoke after the last exam, and yesterday Kevlar had his last exam for the summer so of course we went to my favorite, cigar masters.

I'm not a big cigar fan, but I just love the ambiance of smoking, the calming factor of it, and the chill spots that are cigar bars. There is no Yin Yang twins blasting in the background, or Lil' Jon, ludicrous, or DMX. Instead one may hear Miles Davis, James Brown, some light jazz...basically the kind of music I like, something worth listening to. Not to mention the crowd in these bars are just so much older, so much more mature, so much more open. Everything I go I meet somebody new, and tend to have excellent conversations. Hell, often times these people pick up my tab, or at least portions of it when they find out the Mac Man is in medical school.

Now that you have the background, let's get into the meat of the story. Monday, Killer and myself went to the cigar bar. He didn't tell me, but he brought along 2 more people, the homies Blake and Aixa (*warning, I just butchered up that name*) Now, recently at cigar masters the waitresses have not been very attractive, but that Monday was a pleasant exception, both waitresses were banging, and showing off everything the Lord gave them. So we made a rash decision and chose to sit at the bar, so we could just state at them all day.

At the bar, I, the Mac Man, ended up sharing an ash tray with this middle aged white fellow, and so we began talking. First we talked about the cubs, the beauty of the waitresses, why we smoke cigars, just some light-hearted convo. Well, then my favorite couches at the window opened up, and we had to go, so the crew and I invited the cracker with us. By now we are a good 3 beers into our trip, so conversation is flowing. Imagine if u will, 3 black men, ages 21, 23, and 25, a Filipino girl aged 29, and this white man about 45. He asked what we do, we told him 3 of the 4 of us are in medical school, the other girl works. A surprise to me, he didn't seem taken aback by that, most people tend not to believe we could be medical students, especially when we don't talk like nerds about science all day (don't think we can't....we just chose not to). This was followed by the regular question, "do you know what you wanna specialize in?" After going around the table discussing that, the convo moves on to psychiatric care, prescribing medicines and the like.

Come to find out the man's son has a psychiatric problem, and the physician prescribes his son SSRI's (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors) which only caused the child more problems that we will not get into here. After discussing these things, we get into talking about politics and gay marriage. The guy says his ex-wife left him because she switched to the other side of the plate without warning. That conversation goes on for a while. Next we talk about the problems in the middle east, focusing on the racial wars, and Condi Rice. Followed by our opinions on Bush, and who may run for president in the 2008 election. Even mixed in there was a long conversation on inter-racial dating, where he shared he has dated black women before, and the problems he had to confront in doing that.

Finally we finish our 4 beers a piece (we were all buzzed) and begging to say our parting shots. That's when he said something that I took as a compliment then, but now am not so sure. Whitey said, "how refreshing it is to talk to young people who are so intellectual, well versed in a number of subjects, articulate, have something going for themselves, and don't have their pants hanging off their asses." Was that hidden racism? At first I took it as an ego boost, I know that I'm more intellectual than the average 23 year old, and have accepted I don't talk like them long ago. However, this man's jab seemed to be, in hindsight, more of a Negroes that can read, write, and speak....wow, yall should be in a museum, kinda comment. Plus I understand how the average middle aged hunkey has a dislike/distrust of this generation X, that we just a lost generation, so I do expect that to show.

My question is that if you have a forthright convo with a cracker about race, religion, and everything else does this mean they should be giving an overlook if they say something with a racist undertone? I mean, I didn't get any inclination that the guy was a Klansman, and although I assume every cracker is racist, I thought this one was better than most. But now I can't shake that comment. Was he implying Negroes don't come of an intellectual breed, except for Cornell West and Bill Clinton? Or was he saying that for our age we are all well beyond what he imagined our peers should be at?

Now, since I only have one loyal reader, Mudbone, I am waiting on your response. Anybody else out there who lives in our cyber Renner Hall, please feel free to comment. I need some help, racist or not racist?