"Not interested, dude, you see, I find your lack of masculinity disturbing," Mansur "Manny" Osman said, smiling. The dejected look on the other man's face was quite simply sweet nectar to him. Mansur looked at the tall, skinny, soft-spoken and somewhat effeminate guy in the too-tight clothes and shook his head. As usual, Mansur was a magnet for everything he found...unacceptable.
This pathetic excuse for a man is less masculine than my butch lesbian neighbor Lori, how dare he approach me, Mansur thought, annoyed. Today's annoyance was one of those dudes who lacked the sense that Heaven gave a mule. Standing six foot one, strongly built, with dark brown skin and short, kinky dark hair, Mansur is a fine specimen of Northeast African masculinity. Be careful stepping up to such a man...
"Um," said the dude, whom Mansur thought of as Mr. Delicate. He looked past Mr. Delicate, who was standing close to the counter at Nordstrom, and spotted his obligatory female shopping buddy, a plump redhead who watched the whole encounter from a distance of about twenty meters. From the moment Mansur entered the Rideau Shopping Center's lower level, these two had been on his trail...
"Dude, seriously, not interested, and you and your Grace over there need to quit following me, next," Mansur said sharply. Without waiting for Mr. Delicate's response, Mansur casually walked out of Nordstrom. He hopped on the first OC Transpo bus he saw, a loaded 95 double decker bus leaving the Mackenzie King bridge, and headed westward, to Barrhaven, Ontario.
Thinking about Mr. Delicate and his female enabler, Mansur shuddered. Mansur didn't like being followed by random people, male or female, and felt like getting as far away from these weirdoes as possible. That's the problem in a place like the City of Ottawa, Ontario. The locals are weird, passive aggressive, and apparently, quite prone to stalking. Almost makes a man like Mansur nostalgic for his birthplace of Puntland, Somalia. Things were so much simpler back there, everyone knew who their enemies were...
"Rough day, brother?" asked the OC Transpo driver, a short, stocky, dark-skinned dude with a French accent who looked decidedly familiar. Upon taking a closer look at the man, Mansur recognized his buddy Patrice, a Haitian dude whom he knew from his days at the Loblaw's in Vanier, Ontario. Back then, Mansur was still working security and Patrice was one of the loading dock guys.
"Pat, what's up, Fam?" Mansur said, bumping his fist against Patrice's, who smiled. Standing behind the yellow line, Mansur bantered with Patrice, a cool dude whom he hadn't seen in a minute. They were good buddies once upon a time, even if they had a friendly rivalry when it came to the ladies. Back then, Mansur and Patrice were both chasing after Amina, a big-booty young Eritrean Muslim woman who caught Mansur's attention on his first day on the job.
"Not much, brother, I started driving the bus a few months back, I had to quit Loblaws, man, they gave me too much shit," Patrice said, shrugging. Mansur and Patrice had a bet as to which one of them would get her number. Mansur lost, but never held it against Patrice, who regaled him with the details when he smashed the hell out of Amina. Mansur, who doesn't believe in being a player hater, simply gave Patrice his props and moved on.
"That's cool, I work for MBNA now," Mansur said proudly, referring to the call center located near Blair Station. Patrice nodded, and the bus continued to speed westward. Mansur felt tense as the bus reached Westboro station, where several Ottawa residents lost their lives a while back due to a terrible bus accident. The fact that the incident involved a double decker bus hadn't escaped Mansur's notice.
"Bro, I almost forgot to tell you, Amina and I are having a little one," Patrice said excitedly, and Mansur cocked an eyebrow, registering shock upon hearing such news. It had been almost a year since Mansur quit working security, and he hadn't seen Patrice since. Sure, the dude was on his Facebook but Patrice wasn't the type to post anything.
"Whoa, congratulations, I guess," Mansur said, smiling faintly, and Patrice nodded. The bus rolled on, and Mansur got off at Baseline Station. He went for a walk around the suburb of Nepean, killing time on his day off. He smiled nostalgically as he walked past Algonquin College, where he earned his Police Foundations credentials three years ago. Good times, Mansur thought, sighing.
Mansur vividly remembered his time at Algonquin College, where he learned the truth about who and what he was. Bisexuality, interracial relationships, racism, Mansur dealt with a lot during those years at Algonquin College. There was Sawsan Elchoum, the tall, curvy, bronze-skinned and dark-haired Lebanese cutie who stole Mansur's heart. There was also the handsome, cocky and problematic Erik Van Buren...
Erik Van Buren, the tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed, devastatingly handsome international student from Leiden, in the Netherlands was something else, and he had a profound effect on Mansur. For Mansur, the son of conservative Somali Muslim immigrants, it wasn't easy reconciling his Muslim faith with his bisexuality. For a long time, Mansur repressed his feelings. All that changed when he enrolled at Algonquin College...
"Enje Jamile Masha'Allah," those were Mansur's first words to Sawsan when he first spotted her, working at the reference desk in the Algonquin College library. The big-bottomed Arab gal in the red tank top and Yoga pants simply took Mansur's breath away. With his heart thundering in his chest, Mansur approached the Arabian beauty, and much to his surprise and delight, Sawsan proved receptive.
"Hmm, you have a fucked up accent in Arabic but I like your style," Sawsan said coyly, smiling and looking Mansur up and down. Mansur returned the young lady's smile, and then, feigning being an ingenue, asked her to help him locate a book on Criminal Justice procedures. Sawsan went along with Mansur's thinly veiled scheme, and they exchanged numbers at the end of the encounter. That's how it all began...
"Nothing but net," Mansur said to himself, smiling after he walked out of the Algonquin College library, ninety minutes after meeting the lovely Sawsan. In his time, Mansur had always felt attracted to the lovely Middle-Eastern ladies, but there was an unwritten rule in the Arab world about Arab women getting involved with Black men. Those who crossed the line faced the wrath of the infamously jealous Arab men...