Finally I headed for home empty-handed and when I got out of the subway I went in the super-market to buy something for my supper. Marge, it is gettin’ so that I hate to go shoppin’ in the market because it turns my heart to see the women’s faces…. Now, Marge, I know that I don’t go in there to look at faces, but how can I help it?
Take today, for an instance, I saw a woman with two little children, and she was starin’ at one of the little boxes of meat which is wrapped up in cellophane like it were a necklace or something, and her forehead was all frowned up because the tiny package of beef had a sticker on it that read one dollar and forty-seven cents and wasn’t hardly enough to feed one of them children.
Well, the little ones looked at her hopefully, but she moved on and bought a piece of salt pork for fifty cents, then the poor children poked out their mouths so that the mother bought them a box of sweet biscuits. Marge, I followed her all around the store and saw her look long at the coffee and then buy a package of tea. She handled some of the fresh fruit and then bought a box of dried prunes. She stopped in front of the stringbeans and then picked out a rusty old turnip.
… Yes, Marge, I know we all have to do like that but it sure started me to thinkin’ about Angie’s present and I began to pick it out right then and there.
Well, first I bought her a big, beautiful sirloin steak because I know that hasn’t happened to them in a long time; next I got a tin of the best kind of coffee, a box of mixed sweet biscuits and a carton of cigarettes. After I came out of the market I stopped in the five-and-dime and picked up three picture books full of puzzles, jokes, stories, cut-outs and pictures to color…. Yes, that will be for the children to go along with the biscuits. Girl, I’ll bet this will be the best present Angie ever got, especially since it isn’t her birthday or anything…. That’s right, this present is just because they’re always nice to me, and I want them to know that I think about them too.
I have also decided to give our superintendent a half a ham the next time I get some extra cash because I know he don’t eat nothin’ but neckbones and such on seventy-five dollars a month. When Mrs. Ames across the hall celebrates her baby’s first birthday I am goin’ to give her one dozen jars of that baby food she uses. On my sister’s birthday I will give her a turkey which I shall roast myself, thus saving her a couple of days cookin’.
… No, I will not buy any of those glass beads and party diamonds nor will I be tricked into buyin’ no sleazy, satin bedroom slippers. Since we feel we must give gifts, wouldn’t it be nice if everybody’s pantry shelf was full after it was all over?
… What? … Oh, that’s mighty nice of you, Marge, you can just give me three pounds of coffee and five pounds of rice…. Yes, Marge, your friend Mildred would appreciate that no end. Thank you.
IF YOU WANT TO GET ALONG WITH ME
MARGE, AIN’T IT STRANGE how the two of us get along so well? … Now you see there! Why do you have to get so sensitive? … No, I was not reflecting on your personality or making any kind of digs! … Well, if you’ll give me a chance I’ll try to explain what I mean…. I’ve known you for years and although you’ve got your ways … Yes, yes, I know I’ve got mine … but the important thing is that we go right on being friends … for example, remember the time you borrowed my best white gloves and lost them? … I know that I spilled punch on your blue satin blouse! … Now, wait a minute, girl! Are we goin’ to have a big argument over how friendly we are!
I said all of that to say this. Today I worked for Mrs. M … and she is an awful nice lady when she wants to be, but she can get on my nerves something terrible…. No, I do not mean that you get on my nerves too, and if you keep pickin’ up every little thing I say, I’m gonna get up and go on home…. Well, gettin’ back to Mrs. M …, she can make me downright uncomfortable! … Yes, you know what I mean, she turns my workday into a real socializin’ session, and her idea of socializin’ is to ask me a million questions…. “What do you do after work, Mildred?” and “Do you have a lot of friends?” and “Are you married?” and “Do you have a boyfriend?” and “Do you save your money?” and “Do you like to read?” and “Do you people like this or that?” … By you people she means colored people … and I can tell you she can wear my nerve-cells pretty near the breaking point…. I know you know!
Well, at first I tried to get used to it because she is so nice in other ways … I mean like not followin’ me around and dippin’ into every thing I’m doing … yes, I appreciate that…. She lets me do my work, and then if anything isn’t quite pleasin’ to her she will tell me afterwards but it usually turns out that she’s satisfied. Also I like the fact that she is not afraid of a little Work herself, and many a day we’ve worked side by side on jobs that was too much for me to handle all alone. Also she makes the children call me Miss Johnson…. Sure, whenever anybody has so many good ways, you hate to be pointin’ out the bad ones…. But question, question, question … and it wasn’t only the questions…. Honey, she could come out with the most gratin’ remarks! … Honestly, she made such a point of tellin’ me about how much she Eked and admired Negroes, and how sorry she felt for their plight, and what a fine, honest, smart, and attractive woman was workin’ for her mother and so forth and so on and so forth until it was all I could do to keep from screamin’, “All right, back up there and take it easy!”
Well, the upshot of it all was that I began to pick her up a little here and there in order to put her on the right track. For example, I’d say to her, “What’s so strange about that woman being honest and attractive?” Well, Marge, she’d look so stricken and hurt and confused that I’d find myself feelin’ sorry for her…. No, I didn’t stop altogether but I’d let things go along a bit and then I’d have to pick her up on something again, and over a period of five or six weeks I had to jack her up several times…. Girl! all of a sudden she turned coldly polite and quiet and I can tell you that it was awful uncomfortable and strained in the house.
I guess I could have stood the strain but it began to tear me up when she’d say things like “May I suggest” and “Do you mind if I say” and “If it’s all right with you.” … When I had my fill of that I came right out and asked her, “Mrs. M …, what is the matter, you look so grieved and talk so strange ’til I don’t know what to think?” She looked at me accusingly and said, “I’m afraid to say anything to you, Mildred, It seems that every time I open my mouth something wrong comes out and you have to correct me. It makes me very nervous because the last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings. I mean well, but I guess that isn’t enough. I try to do the right thing and since it keeps coming out wrong I figured I’d just keep quiet. I … I … want to get along but I don’t know how.”
Marge, in that minute I understood her better and it came to my mind that she was doing her best to make me comfortable and havin’ a doggone hard go of it. After all, everything she’s ever been taught adds up to her being better than me in every way and on her own she had to find out that this was wrong…. That’s right, she was tryin’ to treat me very special because she still felt a bit superior but wanted me to know that she admired me just the same.
“Mrs. M …,” I said, “you just treat me like you would anybody else that might be workin’ for you in any kind of job. Don’t be afraid to talk to me because if you say the wrong thing I promise to correct you, and if you want to get along you won’t mind me doing so. After all, if I got into all your personal business and wanted to know everything about your life and your husband and your friends, pretty soon you would be forced to correct me even though it might make me uncomfortable.” “Oh, Mildred,” she says, “I didn’t realize …” “Of course you didn’t,” I cut in, “but can’t you see that it’s unfair to push a one-sided friendship on me?” “Mildred,” she says, “I wanted to be friendly.” “Now of course you did,” I answered, “but, for example, when you told me the other day that you’re going to drop by my house and see me sometime I don’t appreciate that because I never invited y
ou, and you never had me to your house except to do a day’s work.” She looked down at her hands as I went on. “I don’t think it’s fair that you can invite yourself to my house and I can’t tell you that I’ll be over here for tea on Sunday afternoon.”
Marge, she shook her head sadly. “You mean that there is nothing that we have in common, nothing that we can talk about?” “I didn’t say that at all,” I said, “but let’s just relax and feel our way along and not try to prove anything, and before you know it everything will go along easy-like.”
She smiled then, “You mean you don’t want to be treated special?” “Well, I do and I don’t,” I answered; “because I knew a woman once who was awful rude to me and said that was the way she was with everybody, no matter what color, and she didn’t want to treat me special. I told her that if that was her general way then I’d appreciate her treatin’ me special and I’d bet that other folks would like the change too.” Marge, Mrs. M … fell out laughin’ and says “Mildred, people are the limit!” … And I guess she’s right too…. No indeed, I don’t take that time and bother with most folks because when I run into a mean, hateful one who comes chatterin’ around me about “What do you do after work?” I just give her a short smile and say, “Oh, first one thing and then another.” And by the time she’s figured that out, I’m in another room busy doin’ something else! … That’s right, but, as I said, Mrs. M … is a nice person, so I told her.
GOT TO GO SOMEPLACE
MARGE, I AM VERY SORRY and yon will have to excuse me, but I don’t feel like devilin’ any more eggs, neither do I feel like makin’ any more potted ham sandwiches, and furthermore I ain’t so hot on goin’ on no picnic…. Yes, I know it was my idea and please don’t jump so salty, because I am goin’. No, indeed I would not stand Eddie up. I only said I didn’t feel like goin’.
Yes, my mind is disturbed. Now you know I have never been a fearful woman. In fact I have always prided myself on how I’ll stand up to anybody, but to tell the God honest truth, I get scared thinkin’ of what might happen when you go on a picnic.
It gives me the shivers when I think how they been killin’ up our people left and right, and how the law is always lettin’ the murderers get away with it! Do you know what happened on the picnic last year? … No, not the picnic you went on but the other one! Well, Stella and Mike, Pearl and Leo and me were drivin’ along singin’ songs and havin’ a nice time when all these cars came drivin’ past us. Guess what? … I’ll tell you. They were all flyin’ Confederate flags and singin’ Dixie! They slowed down as they passed us and jeered and hollered a lot of ugly names! There must have been seven or eight cars and every one of ’em was loaded with screechin’ hoodlums. I was some scared. I was afraid that Leo and Mike was gonna get in trouble, especially when I heard Leo say, “Okay, Mike, here’s where we take somebody with us, ’cause damn if I’m gonna leave this world by myself!”
Stella started cryin’ but Pearl reached down in the lunchbox, got the box of black pepper and hollered back to me, “The first mother’s son that sticks his or her head in this car is gonna get both eyes full of black pepper!” Well, it looked for a while like we was gonna be run off the road but Leo held that car steady and wouldn’t budge a inch. Pearl yelled, “Honey, we gonna hit!” But Leo still held fast to the center of the right lane. Oh yes, they went on after a while, when it looked like it might mean they was gonna crash too!
No, that wasn’t all. After we got to the picnic grounds all we could see was motorcycles roarin’ back and forth with Confederate flags on the handlebars. Well, you can imagine how long it took us to get ourselves together, but as hard as it was we managed to try and enjoy ourselves. When we went to the lockerrooms I pointed up to the wall and showed the girls where somebody had written, “niggers not wanted.” No, we didn’t mention it to the fellas ’cause our day was spoiled enough already. Yes, we had a swim and ate our lunch even though I couldn’t taste it. Afterwards when we was drivin’ home, we didn’t sing and just before we crossed the tollbridge a white fella rolled down his car window and asked Leo if he’d give him a match, Leo gave him a dirty look and said, “Hell no!” He looked at us real funny, but we didn’t pay him one bit of mind.
Marge, do you remember those two men that was killed in Yonkers just ’cause they went in a bar to buy a drink? … No, nothin’ at all was done about it except to let the one who did it just go right on about Ms business! Search your mind and tell me if you remember one time when a white person got the chair or was hanged for killin’ one of our folks. Well, if it’s ever happened, I’ve never heard of it!
Don’t it give you the goose pimples when you realize that white people can kill us and get away with it? Just think of it! We are walkin’ targets everywhere we go—on the subway, in the street, everywhere.
Now I am a good woman, but if I was not, the law is so fixed that I can’t go around killin’ folks if I want to live myself. But white folks can kill me. And that is why we got to be so cautious even on a picnic.
Of course I’m goin’! I shall take my life in my hands and go to the beach. After all we got to go somewhere … sometime.
“THE POCKETBOOK GAME”
MARGE … DAY’S WORK is an education! Well, I mean workin’ in different homes you learn much more than if you was steady in one place…. I tell you, it really keeps your mind sharp tryin’ to watch for what folks will put over on you.
What? … No, Marge, I do not want to help shell no beans, but I’d be more than glad to stay and have supper with you, and I’ll wash the dishes after. Is that all right? …
Who put anything over on who? … Oh yes! It’s like this…. I been working for Mrs. E … one day a week for several months and I notice that she has some peculiar ways. Well, there was only one thing that really bothered me and that was her pocketbook habit…. No, not those little novels…. I mean her purse–her handbag.
Marge, she’s got a big old pocketbook with two long straps on it … and whenever I’d go there, she’d be propped up in a chair with her handbag double wrapped tight around her wrist, and from room to room she’d roam with that purse hugged to her bosom…. Yes, girl! This happens every time! No, there’s nobody there but me and her…. Marge, I couldn’t say nothin’ to her! It’s her purse, ain’t it? She can hold onto it if she wants to!
I held my peace for months, tryin’ to figure out how I’d make my point…. Well, bless Bess! Today was the day! … Please, Marge, keep shellin’ the beans so we can eat! I know you’re listening’, but you listen with your ears, not your hands…. Well, anyway, I was almost ready to go home when she steps in the room hangin’ onto her bag as usual and says, “Mildred will you ask the super to come up and fix the kitchen faucet?” “Yes, Mrs. E …,” I says, “as soon as I leave.” “Oh, no,” she says, “he may be gone by then. Please go now.” “All right,” I says, and out the door I went, still wearin’ my Hoover apron.
I just went down the hall and stood there a few minutes … and then I rushed back to the door and knocked on it as hard and frantic as I could. She flung open the door sayin’, “What’s the matter? Did you see the super?” … “No,” I says, gaspin’ hard for breath, “I was almost downstairs when I remembered … I left my pocketbook!”
With that I dashed in, grabbed my purse and then went down to get the super! Later, when I was leavin’ she says real timid-like, “Mildred, I hope that you don’t think I distrust you because …” I cut her off real quick…. “That’s all right, Mrs. E …, I understand. ’cause if I paid anybody as little as you pay me, I’d hold my pocketbook too!”
Marge, you fool … lookout! … You gonna drop the beans on the floor!
NEW YORK’S MY HOME
MARGE, SOMETIMES OUT OF TOWN VISITORS can be a real drag if you live in New York City…. Well, you remember the time my friend Mamie visited me for two weeks? … Of course I enjoyed her company, but she almost gave me a nervous breakdown! … Yes girl, she came here with a list as long as your arm and had every
minute of her time planned right down to the second…. No, I didn’t mind that at all, but what got me was the fact that my time had to go right along with it…. Honey! She had to see all the museums, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the United Nations, Radio City, Central Park, Bronx Park, Small’s Paradise, Birdland, Randolph’s, the theatres, the markets, and, of course, she never got her fill of bus and boat sight-seeing trips…. My dear, I never did so much subway ridin’ and transferrin’ in my natural life…. I can tell you that I was some worn out. About two days before she left she decided to make the rounds of all the big department stores…. Marge, we hit every floor in Macy’s and then run over to Gimbel’s and …
Girl! Are you out of your mind? Of course she didn’t soak me for all the bills, in fact she made an announcement the first day she got here…. “Mildred, I’m goin’ to pay my own way everywhere I go.” … That was great, Marge, but the fact remains that I had to pay my way and traipse along with her, and when she left I was two steps from the poor house and a nervous breakdown.
Wait a minute, I haven’t told it all…. Well, she also had to sample all the different foods in the different restaurants. We had Chinese dinners, French lunches, Italian suppers and so forth and so on, then to cap the climax she just had to ride one of those horse and buggy things through Central Park…. Yes, we did that the day before she left…. There I was leaning back in this carriage, my arms full of packages and my blood pressure hittin’ close to two hundred when out she comes with this remark: “New York is all right to visit but I could never live here. It’s too much rush and hectic going all the time. The pace is too fast, the buildings are too close together, and I like peace and quiet.”
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