A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters

by. Jackson Tan

January 27, 2011

New York was experiencing a financial meltdown, and the situation for me became unstable. Unless a

worker had been working in an office for more than a few years, or was willing to work for far less

than their other counterparts, many minorities, Africans, Asians, South Americans, Caribbeans, and

Latins, were being released or laid-off. I noticed the way that the office was treating me had changed.

Shelly, the Business Manager saw me on 25th Street, and crossed the street scowling at the sight of

me. Bonnis, the Principal shook his head every time he saw me. The office had recently hired an

immigrant, as a new Project Manager, to do the very same work that I was brought on to do. His

name was Lazo. I knew he was working for far less than me. Speaking with him several times, he told

me how he immigrated from his country only a few years ago and learned AutoCAD at a community

college in New Jersey. Lazo entered the United States on a Tourist Visa. When he got hired to work in

New Jersey, he as given a Working Visa. At the time, Lazo was having family members petition for his

naturalization. He shared a room with a girl in New Jersey, the cost of rent and utilities split between

the two of them. Lazo told me that he had been brought on from another office as a Project Manager

because of his experience with high-end residences. The Project Director, C.B., didn’t really make the

connection about the similarity in credentials the new Project Manager had with mine. At a lunch, C.B.

told me that he found it odd that the firm would hire another Project Manager, when my qualifications

and capabilities fit the position best.

Frankly, I saw that the firm was ready to get rid of me. The new guy had the same credentials as me,

only I had the Masters Degree. The Masters is what put my salary at par with the other Project

Managers. I could tell the older Project Managers weren’t really warming up to me because of my

age, racial composition, higher degree, and salary. Sitting next to the office kitchen, I could hear Brun,

1 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

and several other Project Managers talk about me. They spoke about how young I looked, and

questioned the fact that my salary was at par with theirs despite my age.

The firm was small, and operated on a skeleton budget. We couldn’t even plot our work at half scale

without the Business Manager and Principal having a fit. The office scanner was assigned to the

charge of one other Project Manager, to be used only when absolutely necessary. The office cubicles

were cells, six feet long and four feet wide. Every time I went to work, I remarked at the similarities

that the office cubicles had with a jail cell. Only in retrospect, I should have remembered my Focault.

Then the final day came. It was a June morning. The past few days, I could tell the firm was up to

something. The Principal laid-off the only black man in the office, one of the older Project Managers

was let go the day before. The Business Manager called me into the Principal’s office. She sat me

down in front of Bonnis, the founder of the firm. Bonnis looked at me, peering through his designer-

label, frameless glasses. He looked at me, then stared at a letter. He looked at me again and said,

“We are releasing you.”

A tingle went down my spine. I felt fluttering in my stomach. Then my body got real cold.

Bonnis told me, “We are releasing you. Before you can get your severance, you have to sign a non-

disclosure statement saying that you will not talk bad of the company.” Frankly, I was being pinned.

Bonnis and the Business Manager, Shelly, knew I needed money to pay for rent, utilities, and food.

Only thing was that they weren’t going to give me my severance unless I signed the non-disclosure

statement. What Bonnis and Shelly did to me wasn’t ethical, nor was it in any sense legal. But, I

needed the money, like everyone else who works the city. My hand was forced. I signed.
2 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

After signing the non-disclosure statement, I felt that I sold out. But, what could I do? Not sign and get

put out on the street? Bonnis Bananavich Architects presented me with a real options perspective on

working and supporting myself. All the options they presented to me included a long shaft in the ass.

So, I went back to my little apartment in the Bronx. I had to figure something out soon. Rent was due

at the end of the month, as well as all the other utilities. I couldn’t go back to Mid-Town. After finding

out how the Architects treat minorities there, I could no longer stomach giving respect to those bottom

feeder businessmen-architects. Even if Bonnis is an alumnus of the Institute, his business

management skills were learned at the bottom of a Brooklyn Park toilet from how he managed the

operations of the firm.

In prior months, I’d been reading about a massive construction boom in Las Vegas. I figured that

there would be opportunity for me gain more experience, and make more money in the West. One of

my family members lived in Las Vegas, so I asked if I could stay with them until I stabilized. They

obliged, so I packed up, and sought to find a niche in Las Vegas.

I was several weeks in from just moving to Las Vegas. Still tired, and suffering from climate shock, I

met with old friends, and tried to make new friends. One evening I sat in the living room talking to an

elderly couple. They flattered me with compliments and offered me suggestions as to how I should

get about in Las Vegas.

Lilith and Captain were long time friends of one of my parent’s friends. Well into the golden years of

retirement, both enjoyed pensions and social security benefits. Lilith used to work in London as a
3 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

Secretary when she was a young woman. The sophistication of London was still with her, as her

clothes and movements were graceful and tempered. The Captain had sailed all around the world. He

told me of the temperament of the different oceans and about the Seven Seas.

Politely, I listened to their conversation. I was new in town and was open to what elders were talking

about. After all, both the Captain and Lilith have lived in Las Vegas for quite sometime.

As I went to the kitchen to refill the couple’s drinks, the Captain took me aside and told me about a

girl whom he wanted me to meet. Being that blind dates have been highly risky for me, I was skeptical

of what he told me. Yet, being that he seemed to be a nice fellow, I listened to what he said.

“You know there’s this girl named, Danielle. She’s a really sweet girl. Nice. Plus, she’s intelligent”, the

Captain casually told me, as we stood in the kitchen.

Continuing, he added, “The girl has a Masters Degree too. She got her Masters here, at UNLV. Now

she’s a counselor at the high school.”

Looking at him, I smiled politely. Thinking that what he was telling me wasn’t anymore than chit-chat, I

nodded at his words, and smiled some more. In my mind, I was asking myself, “What the heck is he

talking about? I don’t really know who he is.”

The Captain went on about the girl, “You know she’s single too! And she’s a member of the choir at

church.”

4 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

He went on and on about this girl as I poured him another water. All I could wonder was: Why was he

pushing this girl like a vendor in an open market? Why is this girl with all these gifts and talents still

single? Is she touched? Is she a snob?

Then the Captain lit up and said, “You know next week it’s Valentines Day, and that is her birthday!

Why don’t you write her a letter! I’ll give it to her, and well see what happens.”

At this point I was fed up with the whole spiel about the girl. I was feeling a bit ill the past few days

from the change in weather, and wanted to rest especially after a cross country move. In the back of

my mind, I wanted to see how much weight his words held, and to see what kind of person the

Captain was. To the better of my health, I obliged to the Captain’s request. After all, what harm can

one letter do? Plus, I can sharpen my abilities at the Art of letter writing.

A few nights later, I went to church. I saw Danielle. I remember seeing a girl that looked like her at the

University of California, Irvine nearly seven or eight years before. Yet, the time difference was far too

long for me to correctly place her. She was a pleasant looking woman, with dark hair, and fair skin.

She had almond shaped eyes, and pink lips. She carried herself as many women in their twenties do:

completely about herself and her life, everything else took the back seat. Yet, from what the Captain

told me about her, Danielle wasn’t any type of girl that I had spoken with before, and she seemed like

an interesting person. Then I figured, maybe a letter to her would be a step in making a new friend in

this new city called Las Vegas.

The next evening I sat down and wrote a letter to her.

5 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

February 14

Dear Danille,

Hopefully you're having a Valentine's Day filled with excitement and joy. In your eyes, I see a woman

who gazes at those around her with a vast transcendence, as if peering into others looking for the

boundaries of their truths, graces, and limitations. Looking at you, I see a woman whose mind

analyzes her surroundings, not only for her own pleasure, but to find ways to benefit the well being of

others.

From your eyes, an ambition to achieve greatness beams onto those you look upon. As plants to the

Sun's rays, everyone around you seeks to show their greatness just for your attention. Your presence

fills the lungs of those around you with a rush of wind, invigorating them with happiness and hope.

The air in your breath is calm, and tranquil. Those who speak with you find the spring of serenity that

flows from your lips contagious and addictive. To the people around you, you stand as the

embodiment of atmosphere, the weather of your favor has the power to fill a ship's sails or dash

sailors to the rocks. The glow in your skin reflects on the people around you, much like the Chrysler

Building's spire shining in the afternoon sky of late Autumn, just after a rain.

Hopefully, we can be friends.

Happy Valentine's Day.

With Love,

M.B.

After finishing the letter, the cough and the headache was beginning to make my body ache. Cold

sweats were taking hold of me, and I shivered in the arid desert air.

6 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

I handed the letter to the Captain the next day. Handing him the letter, I looked at the Captain’s eyes.

His eyes widened as if in shock. He seemed surprised, and at the same time happy that I had done

what he said.

I was already ill from lack of rest, and the weather change. Headaches, and a terrible cough were

shocking my system. My eyes watered as a symptom of a cold and plain physical exhaustion. The

Captain assured me that he’d get the letter to Danielle. At that point, all I wanted were some pain

killers and several weeks of bed rest.

A few days after Valentines, I received an e-mail from Danielle.

Hello M.B.,

Thank you for the card and letter. I've been wanting to thank you in person, but I haven't seen you

around after service. You should hang out more after, meet and mingle with the others. I haven't

seen you at our group meeting in awhile. You might like it. =)

Anyway, thank you for the letter and card. =) I appreciate the kind words. I have a boyfriend, but you

should definitely try to hang out more with all of us church people, maybe join choir? =) Hopefully

then, we can get to know each other better and become very good friends.

Take care,

Danielle D.

Counselor

7 of 8
 A Mestizo Brown Adventure: The End of Love Letters
by. Jackson Tan
January 27, 2011

Receiving the e-mail, was pretty nice. It took the bite of the cold off for a moment. It showed me that

the Captain’s information isn’t always correct, or that he might have been playing with me from the

beginning. At that time, I couldn’t figure out what kind of people I was dealing with.

As I recovered from the exhaustion and illness, I went back to church. Strangely, things were

different. People looked at me and held in laughs. I heard two women gossiping about me within

earshot. As I entered the nave, the choir members looked at me. The men looked at me with

contempt in their eyes. The women looked at me and held themselves from laughing. The whole

scene was strange. Could the change have been from the letter?

Most likely. Even the Deacons looked at me and wanted to laugh. The Head Deacon, Yurey, looked at

me with his bloated chest and gut holding in hard chuckles. I looked at Danielle and she looked at me

like I was crazy. Did she not appreciate the letter? Did her statement “kind words” really mean

another thing completely? Maybe people really don’t mean what they say in this part of the country.

The striking differences between New York and the Western states was becoming evident. At that

point, I knew that I wasn’t going to like Las Vegas.

That day, I felt alienated by the congregation. I found out that people here don’t really appreciate the

Art of letters and words as much as back East. I saw how the congregation acted in my presence as

sad and disgusting. They only saw a simp in the words and not much else. From then on, I learned to

never again write personal a letter to a girl.

8 of 8