Plantation? Are you out of your mind?

I remembered sometime late last night that my department, a merry band of affluent white folks, were having their summer outing today.

Let me back up. First, I don't like these folks, they are socially inept and I am almost positive I am the only black person they have ever associated with for longer than it takes to fill a glass of water, retrieve their vehicle, or clean their gutters. These are the kind of folks who think black folks are the help.

So fast fwd to last week and my oh so stubborn boss trying to guilt me into going out to play golf in 90 degree weather. I declined in every tactful way I could think of. However, he just wouldn't let it go. Even on Friday when I left he was still up my ass about coming out to the golf club called (I shit you not) River Plantation.



I don't know about the rest of the black American population, but I don't really have a whole lot of faith in being coaxed to a place called River Plantation by a bunch of rich white people. Call me crazy, but isn't this how some other shit got started about 200 years ago?

So this morning, while debating whether or not it would be worse to carry it and go to work, or show up at the massa's house for a day of pickin cotton... I chose to carry it. No one likes an angry belligerent black woman anyway. I woulda had a foul ass attitude, and something extra shitty could have escaped my lips during the course of the day. Something just slick enough to get my black ass fired.

Anyway, I have to hit the video store tonight. I gotta pick up Bagger Vance, Amistad, and Roots for when they ask me why the hell I didn't show up. Movies are so much easier for them to grasp.