It’s hard working at The Root.
I have been ridiculed for having never tried bacon. One editor whose name rhymes with Schmangela Shmelm once threatened to beat me with a wet noodle. Just this morning, social media editor Corey Townsend threatened to assault me at the company Christmas party by yelling Cardi B lyrics in my ear. And I know he wasn’t kidding, because he’s done it before.
At first, I thought I was being too sensitive and figured that coworkers always give each other a good-natured ribbing. But then I saw this now-viral clip from a Pennsylvania KFC and found out that some people get to work with people who actually care about them.
In a now-viral video posted by Instagram user @Bobbie_Holiday, an attempt to prank a cashier at what appears to be a north Philadelphia KFC is thwarted when the crew presents the prankster with an open invitation to knuck if he would indeed like to verify his apparent buckness.
“My boyfriend was here earlier and said you wrote your phone number on his receipt,” says the jokester. “I’m just here to check you and say... like... control your hormones.”
Here we must pause to recognize the worker in the red sweater peeping the shenanigans from afar. She walks by as if she’s not involved, but what she’s actually doing is going to get the rest of the crew, who all suddenly appear like there’s a portal from Wakanda next to the deep fryer.
But Denita, who is obviously working this job to pay tuition for her courses at the Dora Milaje School of Wish-a-Motherfucker-Would, calmly interjects and offers a lesson in etiquette and de-escalation.
“Let me explain something to you,” she begins before she explains that she doesn’t care about the prankster or Antwan, the fake boyfriend who started all this. “When you walk in here, say ‘good morning,’ like we said to you.”
For the uninitiated, “Let me explain something to you” is categorized with such phrases as “Hol’ up, patna” and “Nigga, whatttt?” (You gotta emphasize the t) and is often used as an introductory offering for a variety of ass whippings. “I don’t care about you or...” is a colloquialism used interchangeably with such homilies as “You must not know who I am,” and is loosely translated as “I don’t give a fuck about...”
Denita explains that no one except her is checking anyone at this particular franchise location, asserting that she is checking “listses and everything.”
Pro tip: If you are about to engage in a melee and someone uses an extra, unneeded syllable like “loved-ed,” abort the mission. Things will not end well. You might get beaten to death with someone’s “fistses.”
By this time, everyone is up front ready to serve Antwan’s lover all the two-pieces he can handle. Luckily, the comedian’s Spidey senses inform him of imminent danger.
This is why I love black women.
None of them even raised their voices, but they let Antwan’s beau know, if this was an official inquiry into “that life,” these women were definitely ‘bout it. The original subject of the prank didn’t even have to say a word because she knew she had backup.
Also, we can’t forget about the last person who came into the clip and removed her earpiece just in case the shit was about to go down. I want to praise her for wearing latex gloves, creating a sanitary environment for the “deez hands”-catching process. I’m sure she wears those all the time and didn’t just slide them on in case she’s tasked with getting rid of the body.
But you never know.
Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I have an interview at KFC tomorrow and you can find me there. Even if I don’t get the job, I’m probably still going to go treat Angela and Corey to a 6-piece extra crispy meal. As they’re eating, I’m going to point at Corey and whisper to Denita:
“Hey, you know that’s Anwtan, right? And that’s his sister Angela...”
“They never say good morning.”