At exactly 4:30 I shut off my computer. A rarity. I had made it.
My co-workers head swiveled on her neck when I said good-bye. Another one popped her head out of her doorway and said,”I know you aren’t feeling good if you are leaving on time.” The other chimed in,”she’s looking a little like a crack addict. I wouldn’t say that to everyone but GURL…”
“Yep. She’s missing that pimp in her step,” said the first.
“Um-hmmmm,” agreed the second.
Despite feeling crappy I was laughing so hard tears leaked from my eyes. They continued talking “It’s her eyes-look at ’em.”
” …and that hair…she ain’t got her Farrah Faccett hair today either…”
“…it’s gonna take antibiotics I’m tellin’ ya…”
They argued back and forth about the merits of seeing a doctor while I laughed. I started to lean against the door jamb, “don’t do that,” warned the first,”you are the same color-I won’t be able to see you,” she jokes gesturing to the drab, beige-ish, almost color-less color. Her comment starts me laughing all over again.
“What is a pimp walk?” I finally ask.
“You know….that sass in your step. You usually have it-like you know your bad,” she flicks her wrist and does a quick toss of her head. “Sassy.”
“…and now I look like a crack addict…”I say. I love it. She’s as honest as I am and about as tactful. Some people would be offended. I am not. It makes me feel like part of her team. Plus-her descriptive is just darn funny. “I was going to ask if I looked as bad as I felt but guess looking like a crack addict answers that question.”
We were all laughing now. After a few more minutes discussing sinus infections, the flu and the hours of the walk-in clinic-I dragged myself non-pimp-walking-crack-addict-looking self to the car.
I left laughing though. I might not have any pimp in my step but I had a little more pep thanks to my friends. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have some sass back.