When the cookie crumbles...

When the Cookie Crumbles.

Inclusivity and being seen in themselves are a part of human nature, and so is pursuing a friendship. The awkward part is when the friendship starts to end.

Long story short, I've spent most of my life in the southern region of the United States that's steeped in quite a rough history of racial bias ruled by the iron fist of religion. In this post crusade alternate universe, plumage is the definer of the delusion of stereotype.

As an involuntary observer, I've noticed that being an individual will subject you to the tall poppy syndrome. As in if you're standing too tall in these fields, yes literally fields, the masses will come out you with a machete of sorts and ceaselessly pursue to chop you down to size.

Don't be a bright candle, because you might burn out the quickest. Or quote Alanis, it's like ten thousand spoons, when all you need is a knife. What is to be expected? This is the slow part of the world, and as one gets further from a "city" center, the work ethic dwindles with efficiency with every mile.

So, I made a friend in the workplace environment, a big no-no to begin with. Associates are to down their heads, take direction on assessing business needs, accept their minuscule earnings, and leave. This individual within the first week of working together declared me their BFF. Immediately friend-zoning any prospect of any romantic notion. This which I was cool with because this person was in a toxic ten-year post-high school relationship where the partner had never really held a job and idly and luxuriously had their clothing hand-washed, meals prepped, while they gathered dust in a pre-paid residential dwelling.

Ideally, I always wanted a best friend because in these parts aligning yourself with someone who isn't playing a role is difficult. Unless you prefer plastic, then that might work out. Being a good friend, I pressured the relationship to end and had quite a few mini-adventures with this person. It was fun and all, but one couldn't be oblivious to the hamster wheel that was ever so reliant on one person's genius, rather than two.

This "cookie" started to crumble when I sought a promotion in the workplace environment. Unlike most of the other patrons there, I went to college. They did not. There is no rule against discussing your salary, rather no spoken rule. The small talk went back and forth when pre-promotion I realized that I was making 2/3's more than they made for the entire week. Post-promotion, made for working 3 days still more then they made working 7 days a week with time and a half and other incentives.

Literally, it became lightning, thunder, and tears of blood of literally how it wasn't fair. Known to all, this individual helped me get this promotion, which was seasonal by the way and continued to pick and pry at my entire method of operations. Which mind you, were more successful on paper than others in a similar role. In a loud voice, they'd exclaimed for unconcerned better paid ears to hear how much I allegedly made in one week, ignoring the fact of undergraduate education, resume experience, and nonetheless responsibility levels. At the time I didn't mind it because, after knowing someone for half a decade one would assume that their storm would blow over and they'd simply grow the fuck up. However, in contrast, they started to fade off into the oblivion of this light that was shining so brightly and respond with side eyes. The time may have been acutely misspent. Whatever was there are the few crumbs of a delusion of I thought you were like this, but you're like that, sealed in the zip-lock bag of the workplace environment. I'll leave that quote of Hillary Clinton, "What happened?" to be their new assignment to find answers to.