The “Sassies”

Sass. I hate it.  I hate when I see it emerging from the neck of a woman telling me how crazy I sound.  I hate it when some spoiled little kid with some grandiose sense-of-self tries to talk to me like we’re equals.  I hate sass.

That being said, I have recently been encountering sass at work.  It’s a very sneaky sort of sass.  I didn’t even realize it at first, but all of the Black women in the office  are constantly sassing me.

If I’m wearing a nice tie, I get a few compliments from my coworkers.  But when I walk into the elevator and run into LaShanda, all I get is, “You tryin’ to look like Jay-Z or somebody?”

 

This nigga think he cute or something.

When my White coworker forgets to send in his timesheet, he just gets a friendly reminder email.  When I forget, the secretary hits me with the Whoopi-face and says, “you slippin’ hunny.”

 

Damn, nigga

The Black women are always testing me with phrases like:

“You don’t know nothing bout that,”

“Boy…,”

or

“You crazy”.

It’s like working with my homegirls. Or my mom.  Sass everywhere.  No one else gets this treatment at the office, except for Milton and the other Black guy.

When Chad tells a joke, everyone just laughs.  When I tell a joke I get laughs too, but I get a little extra from the Black women:

“Boy, you so stupid!”

“You a fool Kai, ha ha,  you a fool”

That’s what’s up.  Chad gets off scott-free and I gotta get called boy and fool.  I was even called a negro one time just out of earshot of my manager.  I understand the behavior; people are most comfortable with those who are similar to them.  I would just feel hypocritical if I started treating my Black coworkers way different from my White coworkers, you know, given that I’d be pissed if my White coworkers did that shit.  Then again, that argument might simply stem from the fact that I’m jealous that Chad gets to go to work sass-free.

 

P.S.

I love all the sassies out there. Without you, the days be unbearably boring.

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