“Everyday People at work”Excerpt-Enero-2025. 1 of 3

After all that beating around the bush. I come to Kathleen’s saga with Johnny Gerberson and the Jacksons. Who recently moved into their home after years of scrimping and knotting pennies. Newly built four bedrooms home in middle class, Washington Gardens. Named honoring a founding father of Jamaica’s political dynasty, Norman Washington Manley. One of whose son is renowned populist, Michael Norman Manley. House was designed and built with what was called small side, standard configuration then. Big side was three bedrooms, bathroom, living and dining areas. Kitchen and back porch with exit to washroom and clotheslines out back. Small side was carport, one bedroom, toilet and shower. Kitchenette with access to back porch, washroom and clotheslines. Jacksons parked their old oil dripping Hillman Minx Hooptie to one side of the double carport. Allowing Kathleen, lounge area and access to small side she rented. Silently grumbling on having to mop polish and Hoover shine the carport every week, convinced she should not have to. Coaxed by her Manfriend who paid the rent, she did say this to Mrs. Jackson with a disarming smile. Ignoring her attempt at camaraderie. Mrs. Jackson laughed whilst suggesting, she find somewhere that did not include chore. Cleaning a carport without having car. Wished Kathleen would give opportunity. Getting higher rent for facilities she now enjoyed at lenient cost. Well, that died natural death. I swear, people should examine proposals in their heads before going utterance stage. My rule of thumb always is. What if situation in reverse and someone said or did that to me. How would I, or should I take it. We have to dry run things against ourselves first, before taking it to market and holding up a sign. Biased in our favour as we are, if there’s remote chance we’d be pissed. Take it as gospel, other person will be hogtied irate. I think I should say though, in her defence. Kathleen figured she had to get feedback for Manfriend, when asked response from landlady. Given he was paying the rent and her not wanting him to think she didn’t care. You can see how easily a relationship might be strained by such misconception. Let’s not forget. Manfriend could be seeking way out of this play by pay relationship and it’s obligations. After initial euphoria of conquest, frequency of being sated and cloyed. Men begin scanning the field anew. Ask Self if game’s thrill is worth covert attendance and price of admission. They’re not talking marriage and family, neither is he in this rent paying role indefinitely. He’s probably searching horizon for new islets of paradise jutting from the surf. Let’s say, Kathleen acted without having options. Women have inherent survival fortitude, but times they are forced to fetch water in wicker baskets. To their credit, when occasions arise they somehow pull through by dint of strength, although reputedly weaker of sexes. Johnny Gerberson was an insurance salesman, aged mid twenties. Two years younger than Kathleen, he was seen as better match for. Than father figure Manfriend in late forties. Johnny wanted to sell a life policy and take her for “a drink.” She declined without emphasis, emboldening him to keep trying. She was I should tell you, a very attractive young woman with poise and style that turned heads. Especially after modelling a famous liqueur on television. Hence, her donned shawl in public. Manfriend’s “contribution” for glory of her presence in his stable, was significant. She resisted invitation for a “drink.” Not knowing when Manfriend might drop in and find her awol. He had her on short tight leash, which she silently resented, whilst freed from monthly obligation of rent. Not to mention, delicacies in refrigerator and pantry, they often went shopping for. We would say, she grinned and bore it well. Weekend on horizon, opportunity would come knocking. Manfriend’s first daughter was getting married in rural area. Family would be gone an extended weekend. Kathleen told Johnny he could come and discuss insurance proposal, defiantly warned him. “Don’t bring any wild ideas about you and me. Or else there won’t be anything for us to talk about.” Now, I realize you’re guessing glaring punchline to the story. Yet has no choice but soldiering on to the end. Most Sundays after church, she relaxed in bare two pieces after making sure, curtains were fully drawn. Played records on old Telefunken stereogram, dad gifted her before he died. Immersed in music she lost track of time, now scurried for quick shower. Normally she would take out clothes before going to bathroom. Now, she did it in reverse. In birthday suit, she rummaged through drawers, taking out and putting back outfits.“God, it’s after four. It’s a good thing he’s a man and never punctual.” She speechlessly mused, rummaging drawers. Thought was broken by rapping at the door. She didn’t need to, but asked. “Who is it?” “It’s me, Johnny.” He replied. “Okay, coming.” She answered. Johnny heard. “Okay, come in.” With a big anticipating grin, that young man took giant strides in. Kathleen stood upright, frozen in fright for seconds. Brain directed hands to cover pubic area. No, best cover breasts. No, best try covering both and losing skill to cover, she yelled at Johnny. “What the hell you stand there staring at?! Take you ass out  mi house!” View the promised land and not get there. I think it’s fair, saying. Johnny found himself mesmerized, taken as is said, aback. Knowing he should have. “Excuse me, I am sorry.” Retreat fast, versus. “Woweeeee, lucky Johnnyyyyyy.” She was not going to sit with him, discussing anything, after he had stared at her fully nude figure. She shoulda kept control by locking the door, always. It’s a barrier against unexpected access, whether by invitation or mishap. “You learn” Quoting Alanis Morissette

“Everyday People at work”Excerpt-Enero-2025. 2 of 3

There exists among some women, a certain sacrosanctness about the vagina. Which dictates unworthiness of some males  having access in any form to, worse yet privilege of copulation. On a visit to my aged aunt, not for first time. She could not identify with me, unaware her sister gave birth. She asked questions, I answered as she tried to throttle her fading memory. On revealing my father worked at the hospital. No, he wasn’t a doctor as she queried with gleeful anticipation. He was a porter. Which answer caused her to sneer in contempt. “My sister had a child for a porter?” After a pause to digest, she ended. “That is why I will die a spinster rather  than cast my pearl before Swine.” Her reaction was prompted by lack of status, rather than inherent qualities of the man.You do recall Phoebe stridently reprimanding. “She’s your maid! Your maid for crying out loud. You do not ever sleep with your maid. My God! What kind of man are you?” Where did this baseless prejudice come from that marginalizes sexual partners based on social status or position? It’s preposterous and reeks of discrimination. Which, sad to say, it’s a female thing. Men as a rule do not engage in this splitting of hairs. Matter of fact some are accused, willing to jump on anything that moves. Wenches or princesses, maids or mistresses are all fair game. Some are known to find succor in animals, adding dimension to term “animal lovers”. You will never hear a sheep or goat bleat r-a-a-a-p-e. Or a Cow mooing h-e-e-l-l-l-p. To their credit, animals will stand still for any kind of abuse, except a knife at the jugular. Francine said, the Cow wouldn’t but she doesn’t know that for fact. She was only angry and frustrated at young men thrusting broom handles up her Ooha.

When we celebrated her twentieth birthday, I asked a girlfriend how comes she had not yet found mister right. She replied, he hasn’t yet been born and by time he does. She will be old and no longer interested in male companionship. Tightening her lips and brow in a scowl of disgust she declared. “A man? Pawing and probing my body with filthy fingers and that cesspipe between his thighs? Oh no! Heaven forbid.” With that she shuddered as if in ague. I suggested there were young men, ambitious, educated and qualified to make good partners for equally gifted young women. She replied with scorn. “You don’t understand,  and probably never will. Not all women are sluts.”

“Everyday People at work”Excerpt-Enero-2025. 3 of 3

Reluctantly handing Jamie my credit card, I said. “Your bosses should wear mask, holding a gun. That way, customers would know they’re dealing with bandits. All costs paid by insurance. Charged $30 to send glasses to workshop?” Silence prevailed, she gave me the card, said. “Glasses ready, second week in June. Which day you want to come?” Poring calendar. “Lemme see. This Saturday.” “We’re closed, Saturdays.” “What you talking bout? On your doors. “Open Weekdays 8:30-4:30 pm.” “That’s right, weekdays only. Monday to Friday.” “Yeah! So what’s Saturday and Sunday, if not weekdays?” She thinks, I prod. “Tell me! Ma Cherie. Gently as you can.” She says. “You know? You’re right. But, I don’t make signs or rules. Hold on.” Takes up phone. “Karl! Customer face time.” Man comes out in sleeveless tee, chest partly exposed. Would female customer appreciate? “Yes, Sir. How can I…?” “He says the door sign is wrong. We should open Saturday and Sunday, because they’re weekdays too.” Karl thinks, then says. “What can I say? Customer is never wrong, always right. Get Antonio over here to change that sign. He needs to take out “Weekdays” and put “Monday to Friday.” Takes two steps, pauses at inner door. “Oh! Give our customer a lollipop.” His chuckle rings as he disappears. I says to Jamie. “I have a friend, whom if he was here, would tell your boss “The sarcastic is churlish and wasn’t necessary.” She too chuckles and asks. “Would your friend have meant to say “sarcasm” instead? Looks like everyone is having problem, saying what they mean. Which day for pickup?” I was just feeling cantankerous at being fleeced. Wha yuh tink?

//