My savior at work these days is Pat--the temp who sits across from me and never fails to make me feel like I'm sane.
Pat is a lady, about my age, and ......well....all I can say is that she is....uh.....black me. It's funny, but we come from two very different places, but god bless her, she gets it. She and I see eye to eye on so many things. I'm thankful to have her.
Talk about raising kids with values.....she's with me.
Discussion about some nutty news story.....we both see the same angle.
Nutty co-worker on a rampage about this or that.....she looks over and smiles to me in agreement that this person is on the crazy-train.
I thank my lucky stars, every single day, that I have someone there who makes me feel like I am not nuts. That's a good thing to have in this very crazy world....and an even crazier work environment.
So, this work dame is going on and on about her upcoming bunco party at her house.....and the conversation was never-ending. Oh, there was the discussion about the food, the drinks, the decor, how many lawyers were in her social group and who made how much money....
and Pat just looks at her and asks "What the hell is 'bunco'?"
This naturally lead to another 20 minute monologue of what bunco is and how you play it.
Pat listens politely and then says "Black people don't play bunco. Is it like craps?"
And I'm dying listening to this.
"NO! It's not like craps!" the lady screams back.
"Well, I dunno, but I can't figure out what the heck that game is." Pat shakes her head.
Which leads to another 20 minutes (or so it felt) discussion on how you play bunco AGAIN. And there were more comments about lawyers and high salaries and cocktails and something weird about fuzzy dice hangin' around somebody's neck. I just turn to my work at this point--hoping the madness will end or I just die or something. I just want it to stop.
This goes on for some time until Pat finally says "Suzy (not her real name), I don't know what the hell you are talkin' bout."
At which point I have finally had enough and I lean over.
"Pat," I say, "it's white lady craps."
"Oh! Well, that's what I thought in the first place!" And we laugh and laugh and laugh. And that poor bunco lady is too stunned to even respond.
Yeah. That's how me and Pat roll. We speak each others language.