The slain body of a black man lay on the white marble floor of a department store. He was wearing a light blue button down and grey trousers – professional attire. When we showed up for our shifts police sent us away. “Did the cops kill him?” I asked.
That evening at Geronimo, Lynn (former boss) showed up (her and the guests she was entertaining being 1% and all, a $50 entree would pair best with a $30 glass of wine). I was glad I had emailed her to let her know I was still in town. She said she would be getting a new dog. “A lab?” I asked. Yes, a black lab.
I still feel worker-loyalty to Lynn, but also, I love her and she cares about me, so I made sure to show that I appreciate her. I was explaining my visa situation, then kissing her and her husband (who is also kind to me and interested in my future) on the cheek as they waited for the valet.
My timing at new-job became un-synced. The white East Coast woman, who wore the work of a plastic surgeon with her leopard print top, yelled “do I have the wrong skin color or something? Can I get some service here?” Just then some cops drove by and shot her.