Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Dee Dee's Feathers + Dishonor on your cow! (continued)

You're not sorry. You want done what you want done, without looking bad or having me develop a lower opinion of you. Even your apology is all about you. You've been coming into this store multiple times a week and spending hours at a time for almost as long as I've been working here. I'm sure there's been a myriad of things going on around you and music played while here that could've annoyed or disrupted you enough to complain. But I guess Dee Dee's Feathers of all things was just the most egregious and penultimate aural obstacle to your reading experience. Okay, whatever.

When you finally walked away, my face was aching from being frozen in fakeness for so long, and my throat was burning with all the words upon words that had been eager to leap out to correct your wrongness and declare dishonor upon your cow. Instead, they were relegated to piling over each other and stuffing themselves into an increasingly dense, strained, and repeated "Okay." Like I said earlier, Miss, enduring this unnecessary conversation took a lot of effort on my part! I said I'd change it, dang! What else do you want from me!

Listen, your musical preferences aren't my business; I shall neither judge nor be persuaded. But please, Miss, if you're going to approach someone with that much audacity over something that frankly sounds like a personal issue to me, please. Please. Just let the conversation be over when it's over! So you haven't let the brilliance of jazz and expert vocal stylings into your heart. Fine. But don't try to talk my ear off disparaging an art while you try to justify yourself.

Whenever I'm assigned to be in the music/DVD department I intentionally play the Black-est and most soulful music at my disposal out of the selection that record companies pay this franchise to play in its stores. I do this because, hello, gotta represent for the magic my people create and/or have originated. But I also play such music because most folks who frequent this store in this rich white area haven't yet been exposed enough to appreciate (or simply refuse to appreciate) said magic. But let this be the first and last time you or anyone else asks me to switch to something else, Miss. 'Cause today was the first and last time that I'll oblige. 

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