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A Day In A Black Man's Life

Tonight, I am thankful to God that I am in one piece. The past seventy two hours have been really tough. My name is Stephen. A big and tall young Black man living in the town of Ottawa, province of Ontario, the Capital region of Canada. The last Saturday in July 2012 I went to the Saint Laurent Shopping Center bright-eyed and smiling. Why? Only one reason, to shop for a certain young Haitian lady named June. It was her birthday that Sunday. About two months ago I met this beautiful young Haitian woman at the Cineplex. The day I met her I had the blues because I'd gotten unceremoniously dumped by this pretty Nova Scotian gal named Jessica Lynn a week ago. It was tough going to the movies solo after going out with the same young lady for so long. Still, a man has to move on, you know? Life waits for no man.

Anyhow, I met June and she truly seemed like a breath of fresh air. I was going to see the movie The Dictator, and bumped into her at the ticket counter. Apparently she was going to see the same movie and we ended up seeing it together. We walked out of the movie theater together, talking and laughing. We had a great time. We exchanged numbers and began seeing each other shortly after that. That's how much of the summer went. June and I began seeing each other, just going to the movies together along with restaurants, parks and museums. We got along just fine, and I thought June and I might really have a chance to start something. What can I say? She really seemed different from the kind of females who usually come into my life.

There were so many things about her that I liked. I was finally going out with a chick who was into the same kind of movies I was, and liked having me around. Also, June seems to like the brothers. She wasn't bitter and angry like a lot of sisters I ran into. Oh, and she liked to go Dutch in movies and restaurants. Half the time I paid, the rest of the time she paid. I was a bit surprised by that but I grew to appreciate her for it. What can I say? This chick was different. A lot of the Black females in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, are kind of negative. They don't believe in the brothers and think men of other races are made out of gold. The only times Black women in the Canadian capital notice a brother is when they see him walking around with a female who isn't Black. I had done the interracial dating thing, alright? I went out with a neurotic and kind of morose White chick from Britain named Rosie, and we fizzled out during the summer of 2011. I briefly saw this Indian chick named Parvati, and it didn't end well because she thought I was having an affair with her Chinese lady friend.

No amount of talking or protesting would convince my favorite Indian chick that there was nothing going on between me and her Chinese girlfriend. So I gave up. I moved on, though I was a bit hurt by all that. I also went out with this Nigerian chick named Ava, and her mean temper and suspicious nature caused the downfall of anything we might have been together. Don't get me wrong, Ava was tall, fine and pretty, and she had degrees up the yin yang but she was also insufferably mean and loud. Thanks but no thanks. In one year, I've been with White British, Nigerian, Indian and whatever else. Women are insane, man. If you treat them good, they can't handle it. If you treat them like dirt, then all of a sudden you're a chick magnet. I swear to God that's the truth. Maybe a lot of guys are jerks because jerks and abusive men are irresistible to women. Maybe deep down women want to be abused and treated like shit. I don't know. You'd have to ask God, or the American Psychiatric Association. The answers to such questions are a little bit above my pay grade.

Anyhow, Saturday I dressed up nice and fresh, then went to the mall to shop for June's gift. This sexy Haitian sister is a Leo and women born under that sign are known to be a picky bunch. I'm the cool, easygoing Aquarius so I adapt quickly to new situations. I went to the bookstore and bought her an Afro-centric romance novel with some erotica thrown in. I got her some naughty chocolate from the adult video store, plus a twenty-dollar gift certificate. All in all, I spent forty five bucks on her. In the past, some have accused me of being cheap with the females in my life but I say I only spend money on those who are worth it. And as I walked through the Saint Laurent Mall in downtown Ottawa on the last Saturday of July 2012, I thought June was worth it.

Sunday came, and I went to this bar slash restaurant near Elgin to meet with June and her friends. My favorite Haitian gal was dressed to the nines. Bright red blouse, short White skirt and high heels. She looked really hot, with the booty popping in that short skirt. June hugged me as I came in, then introduced me to her friends. An Arab chick, a Black chick and a White chick. Later we were joined by a gay Black dude and a tomboyish White chick. The evening was off to a nice start. We were all talking and laughing. June's lady friends had a lot of questions about me, but I played it cool. Where am I from? I'm a Haitian guy raised in Boston, Massachusetts. Where do I go to school? Carleton University. How long have I known June? About two months. What are my intentions with her? None of your damn business, said with a smile. Oh, yeah. I was cool under pressure.

Yeah, everything was really cool. June and I took a couple of pictures together, and all was going good. I paid for my bill separately because June said her friends had her back. Sounds good to me. My order came to a total of twenty five dollars. I paid thirty, giving the waitress, a lovely White chick with brownish hair and hazel eyes, a nice tip. I've worked crappy jobs before. Hell, I'm an international student from the City of Boston studying at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa. As an American student, I get charged double what they charge Canadian students. Fun, isn't it? I work as a Security guard to make some extra cash. I know all about crappy jobs where you deal with lousy people. Anyhow, when the bill came, June paid with a hundred given to her by her friends. I think her order came up to like sixty dollars or something. She took back forty, and gave the waitress a single DOLLAR as a tip. When June's friends protested, saying that she should give more, she scoffed, quite loudly saying that she seldom gave more than a dollar as a tip. This the waitress took without saying a word, though I could tell the young lady was wounded. I felt bad for her.

As the evening wound down, everybody got ready to bounce. June and her friends were going to a casino in the nearby City of Gatineau, Province of Quebec. I had to work as overnight Security for a twenty-four-seven grocery store on nearby Rideau Street. We walked out, June gave me the briefest of hugs then took off. She got into a cab with her girlfriends and her Arab girlfriend's brother and they drove off. I stood there, deep in thought. I learned a lot about June that night. She wasn't very affectionate with me in front of her girlfriends. She was deliberately vague when they asked her about us, if there is an us. Oh, and I really didn't like the stuck-up way she treated the waitress whom she didn't tip well. The look on that waitress face just about broke my heart. I felt good that I gave her a five-dollar tip but June's behavior was....yeah. I didn't like it, let's leave it at that. I went to work that night feeling weird. The chick I had been seeing introduced me to her friends and we had a blast at her birthday party. So why did I feel so damn sad?

Anyhow, the next day, Monday, I woke up around one in the afternoon because I was really tired after working as the grocery's store Security guy from 11 P.M. to 7 A.M. I woke up, showered and took care of business. Around two, I got dressed and decided to grab a quick bite at Soleil Des Iles, this quaint little Haitian restaurant located about a mile from my apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa. I was walking down there when I got a call from June. She seemed giddy, and I asked her how her time at the casino went. She told me she had a good time, and how much she liked both the erotica book and the naughty chocolate bits that I gave her. I was happy to hear that. I asked her what she thought of the gift certificate I gave her. She told me she couldn't find the gift certificate in the gift bag I got her, and that she was gonna call back the restaurant from the night before to see if they had it. For some reason, that really bothered me. First, she wasn't very affectionate with me around her friends. Second, she was really, really stuck up in how she treated that waitress, whom she didn't even tip right. Third, she lost the gift certificate I got her? Wow. Um, what's wrong with this broad?

I kept my thoughts to myself. June excused herself on the phone, saying she'd call me back. To be honest, I really didn't feel like talking to her today because I might say something I'd regret. I went to the Haitian restaurant, ate my meal, and I was kind of forlorn because I was deep in thought. I thought about June. What's going on with her? Things were so promising until last night. What the heck is wrong with her? I am friendly and generous with friends, family and potential lovers. However, I do not like to feel like I'm not appreciated or that I'm being played for a fool. No way no how. I walked back to my apartment and checked the red bag in which I brought the gift bag to June at the restaurant Sunday night. It was empty. No letter containing the gift certificate. Ergo, I gave it to June. She should have it. So, she somehow lost it. Wow. That's....that's really not cool.

Anyhow, I got on bus number eighteen leaving Vanier for Saint Laurent Mall and caught the number four bus going to Carleton University at Hurdman Station. While on the bus, I thought about June. What is going on with her? Why is she doing this? Things were going so well between us. Why is she fucking up things now? Women! I half-heartedly called her back and honestly, I was kind of relieved that she didn't pick up because she wasn't around, or didn't feel like it. Whatever. I sat on the bus, deep in thought. Well, something pulled me out of my reverie. A White guy sitting two seats behind me sat with an older White lady and he kept going on and on about Black Americans, Black Canadians and Africans and how stupid we were.

Upon hearing that, I got mad, and told him to shut his racist mouth. The old White woman who was with him told me to butt out of their conversation. I shrugged and said whatever. When I got off the bus, the White dude seemed to suddenly find his balls. He hollered at me. I stopped. We stood less than two feet apart from each other. He asked me if I was accusing him of being a racist. I shrugged. Hell yes I was accusing him of being a racist. He said if I did it again he'd kick my ass. I told him that I was standing right in front of him. He seemed taken aback by that, but didn't touch me. I should mention I'm six-foot-two by 250 pounds and he's around five-foot-nine by one seventy. Whatever. A fight is a fight and I'm always ready for those. When he didn't meet my challenge, I said whatever and walked away. Slowly. He kept a respective distance behind me, but followed me, with his mother or very old girlfriend or whatever in tow.

Dude followed me to the campus library, and gave my description to someone on his phone. Oh, coward White dude calling for backup because he can't fight Mister Big And Tall Black Man by himself? I decided to play it smart. I wanted to kick his ass but I didn't want to get kicked out of Carleton University. So I called campus Security. The lady working dispatch told me a female officer would meet me outside the library. I waited, and ran into this cool guy I remembered from one of my classes. We made small talk before I excused myself to report the incident to the campus safety officer. The officer in question was Miss Brianna, a short, and very pretty blonde-haired Caucasian female who looked snappy in her dark blue uniform. Anyhow, I told her in great detail what happened. She told me that because the dude followed me into the campus library, they would be able to see him in the Security cameras. I nodded, and she told me she'd do her best. I wasn't too hopeful. It's a big school, and I wasn't even sure if Mister Racist White Dude or His Mama went to the school.

Half an hour later, Brianna the cute blonde pixie officer came back, and told me she located the racist White dude who threatened me, and his mother. While in the Security office he did admit to threatening me, but blamed it on frustration. Apparently, he was a student at Carleton University and all that. Oh, okay. That so does not make me feel better. They told him to stay away from me, after taking his name and address. The officer asked me if I liked how things turned around. I looked at the cute blonde Security officer and told her she was my hero. She smiled brightly, told me she tried, and then walked away. I smiled as she walked away. It was my first time smiling since June's birthday at the restaurant Sunday night. Just another day in the life of a young Haitian-American man in Ottawa. June, the pretty Haitian gal I like doesn't seem to feel me the same way, either that or she is acting very strange. Oh, and I've had to deal with a racist White dude who was clearly used to getting away with insulting minorities. I guess he wasn't expecting to deal with a Boston Brahmin this Monday afternoon. I'm just killing time on the second floor of the Carleton University library until it's time for me to go to work. Just another day. How was your day?

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