Since writing my recent post on Black workers who feel the need to repeatedly claim they are other races (in order to appear more acceptable to Whites), I remembered a Black coworker I had in the late 90's. I shared an office with Will. Nearly everyday, Will would brag that he wasn't actually Black. "I know I look Black," he would say, "but, I'm actually Cuban. My name is really Guillermo. That's Spanish...for William." Now, just as an FYI, everything in his possession listed his name as "William." Timesheets? William. Pay stubs? William. But, he wanted to be known as "Guillermo." So, he would make his announcement and I would just stare at him and say, "Oh, really." And, that was our semi-daily ritual. Until one day, when "Guillermo" decided to tell me, "You know, I bleach myself at night." I was like, "excuse me." He said, "I bleach myself at night. You've never done that?." When I told him I had not attempted to bleach myself, "Guillermo" shared his technique. He would take a brown paper towel (he said they were "stronger" than white paper towels) and he would apply water and a bit of bleach and, then, he would scrub his face with the diluted bleach solution. I restrained my laughter and asked, "Does it work?" Just to see what the jacka%s, would say. "Guillermo's" response? "I don't think I've been doing it long enough." "Guillermo" would also go out of his way to talk about places like La Jolla, Califorornia. So, he could use his "Spanish accent" and say, "La Hoya." Yes, people, we work with some very sick individuals.