THE ONLY BLACK GUY IN THE OFFICE
When Mixing Colleagues and Friends Goes Nightmarishly Wrong
How a night out became a cautionary tale about keeping the two worlds separate
Update 6/7/22: Level has a new home. You can read this article and other new articles by visiting LEVELMAN.com.
I still remember the disappointment of my 25th birthday as clear as day. I’d decided on a hibachi dinner downtown with a few friends from different corners of my life — childhood, church, college, that one time I worked at a Macy’s perfume counter. Despite the steak and shrimp being bomb, the night felt like a disaster. My guests were like oil and water and I had to play peacemaker in the midst of passive-aggressive jabs and sake shots. Awkward as fuck.
But the worst birthday I’ve ever experienced wasn’t even my own.
Look, the only thing more regrettable than blending your friend groups is agreeing to blindly step into those of your co-workers. I tend to keep it cordial with co-workers on the clock, but a handful are cool enough to kick it with outside of work. Jill, an associate from my last telemarketing gig, was my person. Not only did she catch my eyes whenever there was some drama happening on the office floor, but at the bar, she could match me…
