Back in 2014, I was in my 7th year of working for a Zionist, capitalist, high-political-donation business, #ESO #EllisSafdeye #Originals. They sold plastic shoes made in China to places in the U.S. like #Target #Walmart and #Payless and they acquired the license to brands like #Rampage #Thomasthetrain #Oilily, etc.

So, I worked in the corporate office in #NYC midtown as a #receptionist and #logistics #assistant processing #BOLs bills of lading. I answered the phone, (4 lines) I paged people, I announced #Minyan I received visitors I also read literature, wrote in my blog, and stalked someone online with unrequited interest.

Sometime around 2010, they fired the shipping manager (one of them) for selling overflow shoes at a table in Harlem, rather than throwing them into the dumpster. My first year there, I let all the plants behind the front desk die for no reason. I kept forgetting to water them and they all died.

I enjoyed living in #Brooklyn and working in #NYC but I was A green ear of corn and always poor. Even though I went to #gradschool at #Huntercollege on the Eastside, I didn’t know about world #politics or #currentevents (besides 9/11). I was just trying to be a #poet and #singer, and I mostly thought about #greatness #sadness and #infatuation But I read literature I know I hated Bush and was a committed democrat who felt real #hope about Obama (the weakest link).

I used to post random stuff on craigslist. Once I said I wanted Bush to die and the FBI contacted me saying, dontcha make no more jokes like that, little lady.

At work, I would receive the #orthodox men (we don’t shake hands with women) who came to ask for #alms for #Israel. My bosses treated them like peasants. They looked pretty dirty and full of head dandruff on the shoulders. I would get mad when they asked to charge their phone because I had that job a long time and stopped acting professional all the time. Charge your cellphone somewhere else. Go across the street to your electronics store. They’d ask to make copies with my personal copier. (it felt like mine after 5 years). More trouble out of my day. Like, I’m trying to drink this starbucks macha, eat my bagel, and read the NY Post.

My bosses, Alan, Joey, Morris, or Sonny (usually Sonny- the eldest family member still coming in to work in person) would make them wait for an hour, meanwhile they’re asking me to check on it, then come out with an attitude. Usually Sonny come out, finally, take the dusty begger in the little meeting room, and write the poor man a check for 15.00. Rude, or no? but it still seemed like Safdeyes viewed is as more than enough. That also made me not trust them (the people asking for alms). Maybe it was a ritual I didn’t understand, a performance.

They (ESO) would send out the oldest member of their company still coming to work, his name was Sonny, and I filed Sonny’s mail. I liked being in his velvet red, church like office with windows overlooking The Hudson river, the train yards, the shore, and New Jersey. I liked them, all of them, when hired in 2004, still had a Minnesota accent at times.

I just made copies, scanned documents, and entered sales and shoe information into #AS400 #database I type fast, I can read literature while receiving visitors, I liked that job. I think that’s why I still dream about it so much, in such vivid detail. That’s how I stayed there 7 (or 8?) years, although I quit in 2013 to try teaching, immediately got scared of teaching, got hired back that summer, and then I got fired soonthereafter.

When they fired me we were in the middle of moving offices on the west side. I had felt that my boss hated me in a novel way, and didn’t trust me. He had accused me of lying about getting stuck during travel the last day of vacation and not coming to do all his data entry, filing, and answer his phone. The new office was nice as hell. Fancy. Clean They definitely were taking a step up. They had survived 2012 by only axing about 30% more of us (cut 20% in 2009) (the rest settled for a slight pay cut). Downtown Manhattan, the #occupy movement was doing it’s thing. They didn’t remove them yet, and I still thought about going.

Last night I dreamed I was getting fired again, Someone was accusing me of writing the wrong year on invoices Which were the grounds they used to fire me. In reality, I had just finished getting a teaching degree, and had only gone back to work there because I was broke, scared, and not sure about the future (if anyone would hire me as a teacher). Like in real life, they were disgusted with my errors. And I was defiant inside, knowing I wasn’t that high or fucked up. I can type fast and accurately. I don’t make mistakes like that.

Only recently (the past year), after learning more about Palestine Zionism, based on media breaking through to Americans on social media I thought about the timeline. Not too long before I got fired I had walked past one of the older, bigwig’s offices (Alan), and I liked him but I was mad at him. I scowled at him. He was asking us to re-do or do something that seemed obviously stupid, with data or data entry. I made mistakes as a corporate slave, but I always thought this was the biggest one. Because I used drugs, and I was probably in withdrawal and in a very bad mood, and I’ve seen my angry face in the mirror It’s worth firing someone over So I thought it was that, the evil eye that got me clipped I’ve always tried to keep it in check since then, with variable results.

But around the time I got fired, I was also moving out of the apartment Five of us had rented in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. We were a random group of youngish adults (I was the oldest), and our original rental agreement was about 500 each, given the rooms were tiny and makeover oviously cheap and shiny, your quick fix it up traphouse project. Indeed while living there I talked to black neighbors (it was their neighborhood, we were outsiders), and found out the apartment’s history. It definitely WAS a traphouse (drug trade-make and distribute from), and my neighbor said right before the Hasids (orthodox Jewish men) bought it, “they killed a girl in there- the trans- there was so much blood.” I mean the gang killed the girl, not the landlords. The house was cleaned and sold to gentrification.

We lived there a year, and this was the time that I married Jason and we moved back and forth between apartments, escaping rent He was subletting his apartment out (illegally, also from orthodox Jewish men- his rental) to a mother and her daughter who were visiting and maybe moving to Brooklyn. But he got caught and evicted. I was pissed, overall, and also severely underweight, drinking and smoking,

When the landlords told us they planned to double our rent (they found European/Asian visitors willing to pay that), we immediately decided to leave and go our separate ways. They were sick of me anyway.

But I wrote an email to the landlords (ours) and I said
something like that your people keep doing this (gentrification crimes)— because they doubled our rent! and that’s why no one likes you.

Yes, that’s exactly what I wrote, I remember. That’s why no one likes you. I bet they looked up my employer, ESO, and reported it to them. Then I got fired. Why it take me so long to figure this out? Mostly always fearing I’m not a good enough worker, and deserve to get fired because I’ve internalized the “productive, loyal worker mind” so it feels a part of me. I punish myself for not performing perfectly like AI (which didn’t exist then).

What will I learn next? While our leaders learn nothing.