I am Funnel Cake Flowers, The Urban Chameleon News Reporter for Tickles.TV. I capture stories of Urban Chameleons who stay caught between tryin’ to chameleon between white corporate America and our kinky hair handling, curry spice eating, hip gyrating, I-N-G droppin’ America. The stories shared here aim to highlight different perspectives on, race, culture and class in America from all different kinds of Urban Chameleons because it’s complicated out here in these streets. Follow me on twitter and IG @UrbanChameleons
Dear Funnel Cake Flowers,
I found myself encountering an Urban Chameleon hurdle. Honestly, it was ridiculous. I was at a financial conference for the weekend on work related purposes. This conference wasn’t just any ol’ regular conference. No. This one? This one was with the State Senator discussing the state of the economy with some very important and high up people. Including guest speaker Warren Buffet.
Ya girl is poppin.
So I’m feeling myself because I’m clearly killing the game, although unfortunate that I’m the only Black woman at this conference, all of my shit is together. All of a sudden, I get an urgent and panicked call from my around-the-way childhood friend that I grew up with in the BX (the Bronx, New York).
I excused myself to take the call in the lobby and ask if everything is ok.
“Do you do drugs?” She asks me.
“No.” I reply.
“Like anything, weed, coke, heroine, LCD tabs, Shrooms,Wippets?”
“No, no, no, not since college and no.” I reply.
“How about Antibiotics? Or even Pro-biotics? Are you on any of those?”
“No, where is this going? I’m at a conference with the State Senator and Warren Buffet is about to speak.”
She then proceeds to state,
“I have a job interview to be the bartender at the Ritz Carlton and the woman said I need clean pee to get the job.”
At this point I’m thinking,
“Ok what does that have to do with me?”
“I need to borrow some of your pee in order to pass the drug test ” she tells me.
Oh hell nah. She couldn’t be serious.
So then I was like,
“I don’t know how comfortable I feel lending out my urine. How are you going to even manage bringing it into the bathroom with you? Don’t they check you before you go into the bathroom stall? Isn’t it going to look suspicious if the urine is not at the appropriate warm body temperature?” I cannot even believe that I was entertaining this ridiculous situation.
“I have a container warmer for the pee, you know like what you keep coffee in, which I am then going to transfer into a small jar right before I go into the stall and stick that into the head wrap I’m going to wear.
She really had this figured out. Although I have never seen a bartender at the Ritz Carlton wearing a head wrap.
Too bad I didn’t care.
“Honestly girl, I really don’t feel comfortable. You’re going to have to ask someone else.”
Translation? “No girl you got me f*cked up. Bye.”
I hung up and re-entered the ballroom where Buffet was already well into his presentation. I had probably missed some valuable information and for no good damn reason. I missed information to deal with some pee pee bullsh*t.
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