Sisters for a day (and sweet tea)

Yesterday was the annual golf invitational for work. It was nice. Perfect weather for golf and the same line, "We ordered it up special just for you," wore off after the first ten times my coworker used it.

So most of us were actually excited to see so many lady golfers (OK, like 4) in the tournament this year. And in the name of all that is holy and Condi, one of the lady golfers was Black. Yes. Black. Between me, her, and the two black boys on the country club staff, there were four of us representin' at the Kirtland Country Club yesterday....what. what.

The best exchange between Moxie and Black Lady Golfer:

Moxie: It's time for your foursome to take their picture. We have to get them done before you tee off.
BLG: Oh, I know. I just keep looking for them--Bob, Steve, Chuck! *waving* We need to get our picture. It is so hard to see who is who. I can't tell if that is them or not. *whispers* It is easier for them to find me than it is for me to find them.
Moxie: Okay. Me, too.
BLG: Okaaay.
Moxie: Shoood.

Then we walked away from each other and forgot the whole exchange happened. But I love these little snippets of interaction because so much can be solidified in mere seconds: an entire history of Black womanhood understood in less than five sentences. God knows what she does at her company, but her foursome loved her. I can't tell if it was patronizing, or ass kissing, or genuine respect. After the game, we crossed paths again and she said she saw a sale in the pro shop that she couldn't miss. She had to get something because she lost all of her husband's golf balls. Immediately, I conjured up this picture of the Huxtables....but I squashed it.

For those two moments we were on the same plane and the solidarity--perceived or real--was nice. Like a big warm mug of apple cider or a refreshing tall glass of sweet tea.....a fresh baked biscuit....or pancakes....like a bowl of soup...a hug.....ya know?

I really want some sweet tea.