Life Goes On My Brother

I was out shopping at the Saint Laurent Mall in the East end the other day and spotted a fine-looking Latin chick with a big ass walking by. Instantly she caught my attention, and I went over to holler. When you've recently been dumped by a female you gave your heart to, you can either sulk and bitch about it or you can be a man and move on. I chose to do the latter. My name is Jean-Renaud Delvar and I'm a six-foot-one, athletically built young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study business administration at Carleton University and work as a security guard at a mall in the West end. There are my summertime adventures, if you will.

I finally stopped with the booty gawking and approached this fine Latin chick and was not disappointed. A lot of females look good from the back but they got an ugly face or some other imperfection that mars a perfect tableau. I really liked what I saw, man. She was tall, easily five-foot-ten, with long Black hair, light bronze skin and pale brown eyes. Nice big tits, curvy body and killer legs. And she was wearing a short Black skirt with a University of Waterloo T-shirt. I smiled and asked her if I knew her from somewhere. Kind of weak, I know, but I needed an opening line, alright?

The first words a man says to an attractive woman he doesn't know are usually awkward. Females have come to expect that shit. I flashed her my pearly Whites and waited for her answer. She looked me up and down and saw the Ravens logo on my T-shirt. Carleton man, eh? said the sexy stranger, licking her lips. I nodded, and smiled. We're going to beat your new football team this fall, she said with a grin. Soccer's my sport, I'm not into football or that hockey shit but I had to stick up for my school. We'll see about that, I said cockily.

Miss Waterloo held out a well-manicured hand and introduced herself. I'm Beatrice, she said. I shook her hand, and we started talking. I learned that she was new in town, having grown up in Waterloo. Judging by her skin tone, I could tell she was mixed. So I asked her about it. My father's Irish and my mother is Peruvian, Beatrice said proudly. Interesting mix, I said with a wink. Beatrice smiled and nodded. I was fast running out of shit to say when she asked me if I wanted to sit together. We were at the food court after all. Beatrice and I grabbed a seat near the escalators and then went to the Manchu Wok place for some grub. I got myself some rice with potatoes and some pork, and Beatrice got herself a combo plate of rice and fish. Like the gentleman I am, I let her pay for her food but told her the drinks were on me. Thank you kindly, Beatrice said with a grin. I must admit she had a really nice smile.

We sat together, and all was cool. I mean, this chick could talk. She was born in Waterloo, Ontario, and was spending the summer in Ottawa. She was once the only Hispanic female student at her high school, though there were Asians and Natives there among the throngs of White students. Oh, and she went to the prom with a White dude named Lance two years ago but he turned out to be gay. Ended up dating Pedro, one of her male cousins from her mother's side of the family. Hmmm. A mixed-race woman whose White boyfriend left her for a Hispanic dude. I tried not to laugh but that shit was too funny. Like something out of Jerry fucking Springer, dude!

I shrugged when Beatrice stared at me and jokingly poked her in the shoulder. She began laughing too. I guess he just loved all things brown, I said with a grin. Beatrice nodded, and a sad look crept into her pretty face. He was a fool for leaving you, I said, cupping her chin. Normally I'm not that forward with females but this one was vulnerable, like putty in my hands. I'm obligated to go for the kill under those circumstances. Sorry, it's in the Player's Handbook. When a female shows her vulnerable side it's your duty as a man to make it work to your advantage. Men are hunters, never forget that!

I got Beatrice's digits, then asked her what she was doing later. I'm doing my cousin's hair, she said with all the enthusiasm of someone going to a funeral. I told her I had two tickets to 2 Guns, which is playing at the Silver City movie theater. Let's go show Denzel and Marky Mark some love, I said, grinning. Tomorrow, Beatrice promised. Then she looked at her watch and told me she really had to go. She offered me her hand to shake but I gave her a hug instead. See you soon pretty lady, I said. I watched her go, practically sashaying that fine Peruvian booty from side to side like a frigging pendulum of temptation. I got a boner, man. Couldn't help it. If you saw her you'd understand. I couldn't wait to see her.

I went to the bookstore and got me a copy of E. Lynn Harris final novel In My Father's House, then went home. It was only two o'clock. I work the four to midnight shift at my job. I showered, put on my uniform and left. I caught the bus and headed to Kanata. Everything is going fine, I told myself. I've got four classes left before I graduate from Carleton University and I am signed up for all of them. Come September I will begin my final semester. I recently became a permanent resident of Canada. I moved to Canada four years ago from the island of Haiti and it's been an interesting time, to say the least.

Time flies by pretty fast, man. Seems like yesterday I was just learning to get by in Ottawa. Now I'm a soon-to-be university graduate! In a couple of years I'll have my citizenship. By then I'll have a Law degree from either the University of Ottawa or the University of Toronto, the two law schools I got accepted into. I aced the LSAT, folks. So much for the stereotype of the Black man being a slouch academically. My parents, Leonard and Marielle Delvar, are very proud of me. They moved to Montreal recently and I miss them. I'll go visit them in the last week of August. I haven't told them that my fiancée Nadine Charles, the young Haitian-Canadian woman I thought was my soul mate, dropped me like yesterday's newspaper a week ago. I was snapped out of my reverie by my phone buzzing. I got a text from Beatrice telling me she was glad we met. I smiled and replied that the feeling was definitely mutual. Life goes on, I told myself as I went to work.