I battled to find the epicenter of the pain that led me to turn on myself. I was eager to settle in and begin the task of convincing my new family that I was as good as it gets. For that reason, I started getting nervous about this guy. Looking back, it's disturbing to me that I hardly felt any remorse for the fact that I was sleeping with a married guy who truly believed that black people were inferior compared to other races. We parted ways and I regained my self-respect and self-confidence. I basically laid it all out on the table. Over the years working in numerous writers rooms as the only black writer, I'd become a pro at deciphering comments white guys made: But as luck would have it I ended up catching the eye of the latter, and that was how I became his willing mistress for two years. It literally stopped on every floor during lunchtime, which annoyed almost everyone except me. This guy was from Georgia. We continued dating, and soon we were exclusive. Meanwhile, I was starting to realize that my increased paycheck came with a daily bonus. He was everything I never imagined I would be committed to; older, married, and conceited.
Was I ready to be committed to a guy whose family owned shotguns and went to the Waffle House? Being the hardcore hustler that I am, I ended up landing the job of a lifetime. As we drove along, I surreptitiously glanced at him — he was wearing a nice suit, having come straight from his office to get me. For that reason, I started getting nervous about this guy. I was selling my soul and betraying the very essence of my being. I have since explored this territory professionally. My dating outside the race was seen as a betrayal. The musician who serenaded me at the Dresden between Marty and Elayne's sets. We parted ways and I regained my self-respect and self-confidence. My parents were Baha'is who didn't celebrate Christmas. Forget earning a living, I suddenly became aware of the fact that I could very well gain a hot young guy, soaked in the drippings of his newly minted trust fund status. Was I in this or not? He was everything I never imagined I would be committed to; older, married, and conceited. He took me to places that require a badge of honor for admittance and spent an exuberant amount of his earnings tending to my well-being. How could I have possibly expected someone with such loathsome values to be empathetic? He reacted calmly, almost as if he had endured my monologue many times before. So, I moved to LA for a year and a half, but I missed the neighborhood delis, being able to walk off a bloated lunch and most of all the easy access between boroughs without committing to a four-wheel deal. I loved that he shared a house off Sunset with a gay, Pakistani performance artist. It only took me a month to achieve that goal. The kicker was when we went to the wedding of one of his friends in Cape Girardeau, Mo. I could no longer date an older guy who happened to not only be married but was also disgustingly prejudiced. So far, so good. I have always been able to move mountains whenever a daunting task presents itself, and this time was no exception. The day I donned that ensemble, two men entered the already frenzied space. Hmm … he drove a pickup truck. I plotted my way into the top temp agencies in the city and demanded jobs that would situate me amongst the cream of the crop. Advertisement Some background might be helpful here.
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