Insanity (7 page)

“Well said,” Bryant agreed. “But what about taking care of your man in the bedroom? Because I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about women getting married and then deciding to shut down the action after a couple of kids. That’s what me and my
boys
talk about all the time.”

“Well, do you plan to stop
giving
the action? Because that can go
both ways
. A lot of guys start being
lazy
and stop doing the things that turn a woman
on
to
get it
. So keep your game tight like you’re
not
married. Tell your boys
that
next time.”

Bryant chuckled, impressed. “Damn, you’re
right
. People get complacent and start taking things for granted.”

“Yes they do,” she told him. “But then guys want to
complain
when you’re no longer feeling their
vibe
anymore.”

Bryant paused and grunted, “Mmmph. That’s something to think about moving forward,” he acknowledged.

“Yes it is. And just because you’re married doesn’t mean that the courting
stops
. So get your little role playing ideas together if you need to.”

The man laughed again, charmed by her quick wit, as they continued to talk into the wee hours of the night. And when Queen finally hung up with him, she grinned to herself against her pillow in bed.

“Like taking candy from a baby,” she gloated. She had the man right where she wanted him.
But soon I’ll need to find out what his skills are like in bed.

By Any Means

 
“W
hat educational programs are you talking about?” the supervising manager asked Queen at the Baltimore Reformation Institute offices where she worked. The young woman was apparently on a mission that morning, seeking money to return to school with.

 “I heard that certain companies are offering government-backed grants for employees who want to continue their education in fields of community interest,” Queen explained. “And since our office is a creative think tank for social programs to reform the inner city communities, I figured we
should
be able to qualify.”

Sitting behind her desk, Deborah Peale looked puzzled. She was an African-American woman in her late forties. She imagined there were plenty of government programs in existence thirty years ago when she was young and the Civil Rights era was still in its prime, but not in the 90s with so many more opportunities for African-Americans to make money and pay for their
own
educations. So she grimaced and shook off the idea.

“I haven’t heard of any programs like that through
companies
,” the supervisor responded. “Now, I
do
know they have government programs like that for
school teachers
. I just haven’t heard of that in our field of social work.”

Queen had arrived bright and early at work that morning to have a private conversation in Deborah’s office. She wanted to catch her supervisor alone and relaxed before she was in the midst of distractions from the full workforce. However, so far, her efforts were fruitless.

“And you don’t know of
any
educational programs?” she persisted with her inquiry.

The young woman seemed adamant and
pushy
even.

“No I do not,” Deborah repeated to her.

On the outside, the older woman was calm and pleasant. But on the
inside
, she was an old school fire brand who believed in
working
your way to the top and not asking for
handouts
of
any
form. So how dare this young and
feisty
woman barge into her office early in the morning, thinking that she still deserves a handout for school in the late 1990s?

The nerve of these young people and their feelings of privilege,
Deborah thought behind her calm reserve. The free cheese line was
over
. It was now the
boot strap
line that moved you forward.

However, Queen wouldn’t budge from the stand she had taken in the middle of the woman’s office.

“Are you
sure
?” she pressed her one time too many.

Deborah Peale took a deep breath and rose from the comfortable, black leather chair that she sat in.

“I admire that you’ve made it to work so early this morning, Ms. Tillis, and I
assume
you did it to get an early start on your day. Now if would excuse me, I have some early work to catch up on myself this morning.”

Deborah walked over toward the doorway and graciously extended her arm to show Queen out. Then she softly closed her office door behind her, a model of civility. Nevertheless, Queen remained determined and fuming as she strutted away to her cubicle.

“Okay,
she
just doesn’t know. But I’m gonna find out who
does
, you can best
believe
that,” she grumbled to herself. She was like a voracious miner digging for gold.

She had been sitting down at her small desk station for no longer than
five minutes, researching government-funded education programs on the web, before Nancy Kellerman walked in. A regal white woman with thick, curly black hair that was turning gray at the edges,  Nancy was a project manager, a level above Deborah Peale’s position with the company, and she had always made herself approachable to the staff.

Queen stopped what she was doing to watch Nancy walk into Deborah’s office.

I wonder if she knows anything,
she mused. It took but a second for Queen to decide to ask her. She waited patiently for Nancy to walk back out of Deborah’s office, plotting all the while.

When Nancy finally emerged from Deborah’s office and made a swift right turn up the hallway, Queen took off from her cubicle to follow her. She was so focused in her goal that she failed to notice Deborah eying her through the glass windows that separated her office from the cubicles out on the floor.

What is this child about to do?
she asked herself as Queen zipped down the hall in hot pursuit of their superior. Deborah even peeked out her door to witness the young woman’s reckless exploration that morning.

She shook her head inside the doorway and mumbled, “This doggone girl is just . . .”
Let me see how far she takes this,
she told herself as she continued to observe with scrutiny.

Queen wasted no time with the woman, afraid of no one.

“Hey, good morning, Mrs. Kellerman,” she spoke as she strutted up beside her.

Nancy looked to her left at the precocious young employee and tried to remember her name. “Oh, hi, aahh . . .”

“Queenie. Queen Tillis.”

Nancy nodded and grinned, slightly embarrassed by it. Not only could she not remember the young woman’s name, but her name was a bit overbearing.

Is that her real name or a nickname?
she asked herself. Neither she nor Deborah had hired the young woman, but they
both
were responsible to supervise her. However, Nancy saw that more as
Deborah’s
job. So she wondered what the young woman wanted from her that morning.

Queen couldn’t have cared less about the woman’s uneasiness with her. She would get over it. In the meantime, she still had a few things to find out.

“Well, what can I do for ya’?” Nancy asked her. People rarely approached her at the office without needing something. It was all part of her job to address the needs of the staff.

“I was wondering if I could speak to you for a minute.”

Nancy paused and considered.
Is this something that Deborah couldn’t handle?
She wondered,
My God, I hope there’s not some kind of an issue between them.

Despite her reluctance, she agreed. “Sure, I have a minute. Step into my office.”

They reached her larger office room at the end of the hallway where Nancy made certain to close her door behind them for privacy. Her office was at the end of the hallway, with a beautiful view of the Harbor and of downtown Baltimore where, Deborah’s office was in the middle of the cubicles.

You can surely see who’s the boss here,
Queen surmised as she stared out of the window at the beautiful eighth-floor view.

Watching the whole thing from a distance, Deborah slipped back into her own office right before Nancy looked down the hall behind her and closed her door.

Nancy took a seat behind her paper-loaded desk. “So aahhh . . . what’s the issue?”

She expected some form of employee gripe and hoped that she could handle it fairly with professionalism and tact.

Queen held her hands together in front of her face, as if in prayer. She explained, “I was umm, doing a little research on government-funded programs that allow qualified people to continue their education in the fields of social need, and I was wondering, you know, if anyone at our offices knew about anything like that for the Baltimore Reformation Institute.”

Nancy took in her comments and was
thrilled
that it wasn’t what she had assumed.

 “Oh, okay. So you’d like to go back to
school
, you mean?”

Queen nodded, “Yeah, and I’ve heard that there’s government programs that would
pay
for it.”

Nancy nodded back to her. “Where did you go to school?”

“Towson State?”

“What did you major in?”

“Social Services.”

“And you finished?”

Queen smiled. “Of course.”

“Oh, so you’d like to
continue
your education?”

Queen looked perturbed.
I thought she already asked me that. What she thought I dropped out and didn’t finish? That’s typical.

“Yes,” she repeated. “So, are we involved in any programs?”

Nancy eyed her as if trying to decide how to answer her. “You do understand that you may be asked to relocate to another urban area after you’ve completed your higher education.”

“I wouldn’t mind that. But you think there are other areas that need help more than
Baltimore
needs it?” Queen suggested with a grin. The idea seems unlikely. Baltimore was one of the most needful urban areas in America.

“You’d be quite
surprised
,” Nancy answered frankly. “Sometimes the much smaller towns and counties need an
awful
lot
of help. And with less educated citizens there to help them . . .”

“Okay, so they
do
have educational programs then,” Queen cut her off and repeated for clarity.

“If you’re really serious about that, check back in with me by the end of the week,” Nancy told her.

“Oh, I’m
very
serious.”

Nancy nodded. “Okay. Check back in with me by the end of the week.”

Queen walked out of Nancy Kellerman’s office feeling like fresh new money.

“I
knew it
,” she told herself with a pumped fist as she returned to her cubicle.

Deborah Peale continued to eye the young employee after she returned to her work station. She then poked her head out of her office to call Queen back inside.

Queen stood before the older black woman in her office feeling vindicated.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t just go and ask Nancy about some education program, did you?”

Queen felt immediately defensive. Getting all that she could out of her opportunities was the American way.

“Well, I’m
serious
about it. And she
did
know about some programs. She told me to check back in with her by the end of the week.”

That was all she planned to say. What was Deborah’s angle for even asking her about it? Did she expect her not to pursue the information?

Deborah sighed and slowly shook her head. “You know, sometimes we can push ourselves right into a brick wall and then wonder how we got there.”

Queen didn’t have a response for her. She nodded and took note of the supervisor’s warning, but that didn’t mean she would stop or slow down her urgency.

“Okay,” she uttered to fill in the silence.

Deborah knew better than to believe that Queen agreed with her. The young woman was obvious hardheaded.

She’ll learn soon enough,
she told herself.
I’ve been around here long enough to know how things happen.

She nodded back to the young employee and allowed her to leave the office.

Queen walked out and thought,
Yeah, whatever. She’ll be in her same position for the next thirty years, IF they even allow her to stay that long. But I got other plans.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Queen shared her recent work stories with Bryant as they headed to a weekend movie in the surrounding Maryland County. Bryant seemed surprised by it. He looked over at his hot date from the wheel of his black Mercedes and asked her, “You actually did that?”

Queen snapped, “Yeah, she obviously didn’t
know
so I went to ask somebody who
did
. And now I’m hooked up.”

Bryant chuckled and shook his head while eyeing the road. “People don’t like when you go over them like that, especially in corporate America.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?”

She looked to him for an honest answer, but Bryant didn’t offer one. He continued to smile and drive. His lack of a response made her more adamant about her decision.

“That’s what I
thought
,” she told him. “You can’t wait around for people to make moves for you. That woman’s too satisfied in her
own
position to even
think
about me.”

“Well, she’s thinking about you now,” Bryant joked and laughed.

“Whatever. She’ll be thinking about me when I’m
gone
.”

Bryant took another look at her. Queen was a proud go-getter who continued to impress him. “I’m actually surprised you even followed up on that. I thought you were only asking because
I’m
going back to school. I didn’t think you were all that
serious
about it,” he admitted.