Coffy

"Are you from Mineral Ridge?"
"No, I'm not. Why?"
"People from Mineral Ridge are racists."
"Oh. I see. Well, I'm not from there. So..."

Coffy is a black man and one of the first people to make a serious impression on me at my new temp job at the cheese factory. I've decided to call him Coffy as an homage to Pam Grier and because he chugs an entire thermus of it every morning. Besides, if I'm going to be accused of being a racist, I might as well act the part, at least in jest, and allege that all black people look the same to me anyway. Also, Pan Grier is fierce and I welcome an opportunity to work her into a post. This might be my only real chance to do so. Sucka.



This conversation happened my first week at the cheese factory, probably my second day there. As if being presumed to be a racist from Mineral Ridge wasn't bad enough, just wait - there's more.

"Well, folks from Mineral Ridge are also notorious liars. Two-faced, back-stabbing liars."
"Oh. Ok. I see where this is going, but I'm still not from there."
"How can I be sure? Isn't that what someone from there would say?"
"I guess. I wouldn't know."

So, there it was. I might be a racist, two-faced, back-stabbing liar from Mineral Ridge. In Coffy's eyes, anyway, I was. I couldn't really prove I wasn't and any attempt to do so would just make it all seem that much more likely. To be completely honest, I had to use Google Maps to even figure out where Mineral Ridge is. It's only 10 miles from where I live. I don't think I've ever been there - at least not knowingly or on purpose. I've heard of it, but seriously had no idea it was so close. Also, I find it incredibly hard to believe the entire town is populated by these deceitful bigots. It's funny how prejudice spawns more of the same. In fact, I was beginning to hate the people of Mineral Ridge for doing whatever the hell they did to Coffy to make him hate them so much and misdirect that anger at me.



About a week later, I had a different conversation with Coffy.

"Do you drive a little blue car?"

Immediately, I'm in panic mode. Did he do something to my little blue car or is he making sure he has the right vehicle for when he does do something to my little blue car later?



I'm completely freaked out by this random and incredibly creepy inquiry. I really don't want to answer the question.

"Yes."
"I thought that was you. I saw you getting off exit for East Market Street yesterday."
"Oh. Yeah. I live right there in Warren."
"No kidding. Me, too. Maybe once we get to know each other a little better, we could carpool to work."
"Wow. Maybe."

The carpooling suggestion actually scared me more than the possibility of him sabotaging my vehicle or following me home. I discussed it with Nurse Egg that evening.

"So, he believes me now. I'm not from Mineral Ridge, so I'm probably not a liar or racist either."
"It's not so much that he believes you. Now he has proof."
"Yeah. That's exactly it, actually."

Since proving that I'm not a resident of Mineral Ridge, things with Coffy have been great. He's taken a strange interest in me. He is constantly helping me out at work even though we work on completely seperate lines. We always greet each other - actually, he greets me and I respond. It's strange, but that's typically how things in my life naturally go.

Sort of like a Quentin Tarantino film...



Love Pam Grier.