Afterword for "Presumption Personified"

Click here to read, "Presumption Personified" , my scandalous tale of the Escalade, before you read any further here.This blog post is a analysis or self-critique of sorts. So bear with with me. I'll probably do this everytime I write a story, because I am trying to work a few things out in my head concerning the story...

Now,I liked "Presumption Personified".

I read it to my Auntie Joyce back in December. Everytime I read it now, I have this image in my head of my Auntie Joyce, sitting at her dining room table, her chin down on her hands, which are resting on the table. Her eyes were wide. She was listening intently to me reading it off of my laptop.

She said she liked it, and thought it was a good story.

That made me happy.

I read it to LadyTee, who snapped HARD after I read it. (She always going off about something, LOL.) She said that that type of sh** happens all the time. A broad got everything going for her- she look good, nice ride, everything- and can't seem to pay the damn childcare bill.

I liked that reaction from her. Her feathers were ruffled. That meant she liked it.

Anyway, like I mentioned in the last post, "Presumption Personified" is partially true.

And here's the story behind it.

Hen-Dog, who chauffeurs me too and from work, uh, I mean, who is my carpool partner, has his daughter Chayse for the week sometimes. So, we drop her off at daycare every morning on our way to work. The daycare is only a couple of miles from our job in downtown ATL.

Well, we rolled up on the woman in this story a couple of times. We'd pull up to the curb right behind her late model Escalade. She would jump out of the truck, sharp as hell. I mean, whatever she wore always matched her Escalade. She would take her baby out of the car seat, and take him into the daycare. The baby was old enough to walk, but he looked as if he'd just learned to walk, so she would carry him in.

Well, first of all, the protagonist/narrator in the story is NOT me (although I do use the Afro-Sheen... Ultra Sheen Cosmetics, lol). I'm not married and I don't have a child, and I don't drive a Honda.

Now, when I would see this chick jump out of her Escalade, I would always be like...

"Hen, that chick right there got it going on! She kicking that Escalade! Go head on, sista!! Do YOUR thing, my sista! Yeah"

*LadyLee kicking the HARD fist pump*

Heck, I was cheering her own. I love seeing folk do well.

One day, we pulled up behind her, and she did the usual: get out of the Escalade, get the kid out of the car seat, and take him inside. Hen-Dog did the same with Chayse.

Well, Hen-Dog happened to come out earlier than the woman one day. I thought that was odd.

Hen jumped into the car. "Lee bet you don't know why I came out of the building before that chick did."
I looked up from the book I was reading. "No, I don't."
"She didn't pay her daycare bill. She been bouncing checks. They told her that they couldn't take anymore checks from her, and she was going to have to figure out what to do with her kid until she straightened it out."
"Really??"
"Yeah. "
"Stop playing, Hen!"
"No, Lee! She hasn't been paying right."

Man, I was shocked, dazed, and confused. On the way to work that morning, Hen and I pontificated about what was going on with this woman.

Because surely, she wasn't outright NEGLECTING her child's daycare, so she could be a fly girl.

Nope. That couldn't be it.

Hen thought that she'd gotten caught up with a baller, and he left her high and dry or something. I don't know what I was thinking. I was just hoping she knew that the "check floating" thing could no longer be done in the electronic age. Maybe she had lost her job or something.

I really don't know what Hen and I decided. All I know, I was like...

"Hen, tell me again exactly what happened. Man oh man, I'm gonna use this for a story!"

He told me what went down, and I wrote it in a notebook that I use for story ideas.

The main character, who was nameless throughout much of the story, was a figment of my imaginanation. She was a woman whose self-esteem was already a bit shaky. Her self-image was really shot after having to see this nameless woman everyday. Afterall, she didn't feel all that great about herself in the first place. She was dark-skinned. She had a natural short afro, not the silky long hair. She drove a fifteen-year-old Honda that had a jacked up driver's side door. It bothered her so bad to see this woman everyday, that she changed her schedule up a bit, so that she wouldn't arrive at the daycare at the same time as this woman. And God forbid that the glamorous woman would EVER see her have to slide from the driver's side of the car to the passenger side of the car to get out of the car. THE HORROR!! She was a bit perturbed that her son was not as well behaved as that woman's son. And the icing on the cake was that the daycare worker was nice to the other woman, and not to her.

What is really suprising is that the protagonist imagined that the tinted windows on the Escalade were needed as a cover to keep men from trying to "holla." But at the same time, late in the story, the protagonist, this "Mrs. Adams" I finally called her, was a bit suprised that the woman in the Escalade had a name (Diana).

Chosen, one of my favorite bloggers, said something in the comment section of "Presumption Personified":

"...people are just like books with beautiful covers, sometimes the stories inside don't match its exterior."

Really though.

I thought that this was true. I have no idea what kind of a financial bind "Diana" was in... It disturbed me, however, that "Diana" had an ongoing problem with bouncing checks, and the daycare was trying to work with her, but was finally like, to hell with it.

Don't come back until you can figure something out.

Goodness.

Now my biggest issue with some people is that they would actually let it bother them to see someone else doing well, even though it may be a facade of some type. (We will never know, until some ish go down, like in this story, would we? Our society is good at faking the funk.) I am always happy for people who have more than me. I believe life is like a grocery store line. I applaud you when you get your groceries sacked up and paid for. That means my turn-my successes- are coming up next.

But there are many "Mrs. Adams" in this world. And that ought not to be so. We should be thankful for wherever we are at. "Mrs. Adams" had a decent husband in "Bill". She had a job. I'm sure she was blessed in many ways, like us all. Why couldn't she just be happy with her portion?

And I really don't think the husband Bill was eyeing "Diana" hard. He was eyeing that truck a little harder.

And then there was this one line in the story that "Mrs. Adams" thought to herself after her husband Bill made comments about the Escalade. I thought about exploring it further, but decided against it:

"But I didn’t make a fuss. Bill was a good husband and his wondering eye never caused any harm. He was as consistent as the rising and setting of the sun, more than I could ever say for myself."

Damn. Looks like "Mrs. Adams" has been a problem for Bill in the past. I didn't explore it further. That "Cheatin'" facet of my personality would have played into it, and it would have taken away from the story.

Hmmm... Perhaps I will explore that some other time. I just wanted to get across that she had isshas of her own, and didn't need to be worried about some "perfect" chick, who apparently had problems no one knew about.

But anyway, I like short stories like this. Gives me a chance to write something quick. I am taking a 6 week writing class right now, and we have to write a story, or continuation of a story, per week. The teacher tells us what direction she wants us to go, and we have to do that... In a freakin' week. The stories or continuations are only to be 5 pages long. Let's just say that it took me a month to write and edit "Presumption Personified."

HAA!! My last continuation I gave to the teacher was 14 pages long and had 3 cliches...

She said, after seeing the final one.

"stay away from the usuals... your work is too good for that!"

...To which I wanted to scream: "I am NOT Tayari Jones!!"

LOL!

And besides, I work everyday. I'm doing the best I can, coming home and writing for 2 hours a night...

Ya betta chill, Teacha!!

Whatever. I will take the advice, and try to figure something out. Tayari Jones hipped me to how to conjure up original similes and metaphors. I was just being a lazy bones.

But for now, I will practice a bit, and keep writing.

Whatever I write, I will probably throw up on the blog for amusement, if it is short, i.e., no more than 2000 words. And of course, I will present some type of afterword of my thoughts...

I am very glad you all liked my story. Makes me a happy chick. Let's me know that I am improving. That's the point in the first place... to learn and improve on my storytelling skills.

So stay tuned... You never know what I will put up next:)