"Another day at World Issues Canada," Stephen grumbled to himself, and the big and tall Haitian brother sighed as he walked into work. The dour face of a certain blonde female security guard greeted him, and he presented his badge and then walked into work. As was his custom, he headed upstairs to change into his uniform, and face himself in the mirror before the workday could begin. Working in a toxic environment with lousy managers and mean coworkers wasn't easy, but someone's got to do it...
Toxic workplaces are fairly common in the Capital of Canada, where passive aggression is the law of the land and pretty much everyone is kind of fake. Stephen knew this from the moment he landed in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. That was over a decade ago. Although Stephen missed Boston, Massachusetts, where he'd spent his formative years, he had to adjust to a new environment. Adaptation is a must in the game of survival, Stephen understands that all too well. That doesn't mean he has to like it...
Stephen thought about how he'd requested a transfer out of this particular government building, and out of this particularly mismanaged security team, only to be categorically denied by headquarters. They simply would not let the brother go. It was that simple. What in the actual fuck? He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and a handsome, dark-skinned man in a security uniform stared back at him. Two years after graduating from Carleton University, Stephen was definitely not living the dream.
A lot of Stephen's former friends and classmates from Carleton University had left Ottawa, although a few among those who remained actually managed to land decent jobs. The rest of them worked as security guards, or basic labor at places like Walmart, Home Depot, Tim Horton's, or various restaurants and small businesses. Why are so many young people with college or university degrees unable to land good jobs in the City of Ottawa, one may ask?
The City of Ottawa is basically a boring and dull government town. Unless one works in the tech sector, which is centered in nearby Kanata, government work is what one does. There are too many old people in government positions and they refuse to die or retire in order to make space for the educated younger people emerging from Algonquin College, Carleton University, Saint Paul University, the University of Ottawa and La Cite Collegiale. Such a waste of talent...
"Bonjour, monsieur," said the petite blonde cleaning lady, snatching Stephen out of his murky thoughts. Stephen responded in kind, wishing her a good day. Privately, Stephen wondered why she was so damn cheerful. At World Issues Canada, there is a pecking order. There are long-term government workers who will spend their entire career working in the building, and then there are contractors who will spend a year or two working there. The two sides are wary of each other, and evidently with good reason.
Below the permanent government workers and the semi-permanent ( with options for renewal ) contractors are the building management people, the cleaners and the security guards. They're the ones who for the most part are invisible. Stephen's problem is that he isn't invisible. He always attracts the wrong kind of attention. A certain mean-spirited Russian female security guard named Olga has been giving him shit from the get-go, with the apparent blessing of the team supervisor.
Walking back to his post, Stephen ran into one of the usual creeps, a bald-headed, effeminate technician with a staring problem. Avoiding eye contact with this particular bozo is standard operating procedure for Stephen. The Haitian brother loves big-booty ladies and can also appreciate the appeal of a manly, strong man, but doesn't mess around the workplace. Oh, and if Stephen were to mess around with coworkers, it wouldn't be any of these shady women like Olga or those girly dudes who sound like your aunt at the mall. Thanks but no thanks.
Stephen went to his post, and walked past yet another co-worker. Mona, the tall, attractive Middle-Eastern female security guard with the enchanting smile. They'd spoken a few times in the past, and he found her quite appealing. Mona greeted Stephen, and he wished her a good day. Pausing to glance at her, Stephen smiled appreciatively as the curvaceous Mona disappeared around the corner. Even in security issued cargo pants Mona's ass looked good. There is something about Middle Eastern ladies, for real...
Not for the first time Stephen wondered how different his life would have been if he'd never left Boston. Would he have found a great lady to marry and start a family with? The only reason why Stephen moved to Ottawa ten years ago is due to immigration issues. Things didn't work out in Boston so Stephen had to come up with plan B, which was moving to Canada. Months away from getting his Canadian citizenship, Stephen had his university degree, among other things. Perhaps someday things would get better...
"I haven't studied in university for all of these years to be a security guard for the rest of my life," Stephen mused, shaking his head. He sat at his chair, watching as people walked in. Men and women, black, white and brown. Government workers. Contractors. Cleaners. Security people. Stephen had seriously thought about calling in sick that morning, but decided against it. The Haitian brother has bills to pay, and that's that. No peace for the wicked in this lousy universe, not anytime soon...
"Is anyone sitting here?" came a loud female voice, and Stephen frowned and looked up at the new arrival. The person who spoke happened to be a tall and heavyset, pretty-faced black woman in her forties. She smiled at Stephen in a way he found odd. Security work is lousy work. Security guards get treated like shit by their clients and their coworkers. What was this broad smiling about? Another jolly come lately, Stephen thought, as he returned the lady's smile.
"Nope, by all means, take it," Stephen replied with his matter-of-fact courtesy which a lot of the peons took for actual caring. The Jolly Black MILF sat down on the chair, then grabbed another chair and put her gym bag and oversized purse on it. If another security guard arrives for duty, he or she would be shit out of luck, but the Jolly Black MILF did not seem to care. While Stephen hates his job and the location where he works, he does believe in basic politeness and decency. The Haitian brother doesn't care about his surroundings but he doesn't go out of his way to be a douche to people...
"I'm Eugenie, are you Haitian?" asked the Jolly Black MILF, extending her hand, which Stephen shook. In spite of himself, Stephen was surprised that Eugenie pegged him as a Haitian man. Typically, people in Ottawa mistook Stephen for everything from a Somali person to a Black Brazilian or whatever. Stephen, who'd been born in northern Haiti to a Haitian mother and a Haitian father, found these instances of mistaken ethnicity quite amusing. What is a typical Haitian supposed to look like anyways?
"Good to meet you, Eugenie, je suis Haitien," Stephen replied, and Eugenie grinned and looked him up and down. Stephen smiled politely as Eugenie launched into a tirade about how a lot of Haitians in Ottawa didn't acknowledge their background or speak Creole in public, and he wondered how to shut her up. The security supervisor, a tall, taciturn Quebecer named Big Al walked by, but he said nothing to either Stephen or Eugenie, who continued with her tirade.
"Je suis fiere de mon peuple, I am proud of my people, » Eugenie said, and Stephen nodded in agreement. As he wondered how to extricate himself from this discussion, or monologue, really, a vision of beauty came by. Stephen smiled at Renee, the dark-haired, pale-skinned, curvaceous French Canadian beauty whom he'd met a couple of weeks ago. The lady smiled upon seeing him, and Stephen most definitely returned her smile...
"Bonjour, Stephen, je te souhaites une bonne journée," Renee said cheerfully, and Stephen waved at her, echoing the words and the sentiment behind them. Stephen grinned appreciatively as he admired Renee's big round butt which threatened to burst out of her too-tight black jeans. Of course, Eugenie, seated next to Stephen, didn't miss any of that. Once Renee disappeared from view, Eugenie tapped her hand against Stephen's knee and gave him the fakest smile he'd seen in quite some time.
"Hmm, eske ou renmen fanm blan, do you like white women?" Eugenie asked, and Stephen licked his lips, wondering what was this broad's problem. In the past, Stephen tried dating Haitian women. There was Esther, this Haitian Adventist woman he knew during his church days, and there was also Augustine, a Haitian MILF whom he met at Bayshore Mall last year. Both ladies turned out to be fickle, flaky and not worth the trouble. Can anyone blame Stephen for avoiding them like the proverbial plague?
"I don't discriminate," Stephen replied, hoping Eugenie would get the hint and shut up about such topics. While Stephen doesn't like his job, he tries to at least look like he gives a damn about it. He nodded at clients coming into the building and greeted a few. Eugenie pulled out her cell phone and began texting, which was definitely a no-no for security guards, but whatever. Stephen had gotten reprimanded for using his cell while on duty, but then again, the security team managers hated his guts anyways, so that's that...
"Ou bezwen yon bel fanm ayisyen, you need a fine Haitian woman," Eugenie said, and then she showed Stephen some very inappropriate pictures on her cell phone. Stephen blinked as Eugenie all but shoved her phone into his face. On the screen, a bikini-clad Eugenie stood on the beach with a pair of attractive black women. While Stephen doesn't mind looking at hot pictures, he knows better than to do so at work, especially in a government building full of uptight people...
