Nova Scotia Women Into Black Men

If you're black and male, and you're a halfway decent human being, then you become instantly invisible to black women. As a university-educated and church-going brother, it used to happen to me. Until I began dating a white chick named Emily Dedham, and black girls suddenly noticed that I existed. My name is Steven Guillaume and I'm a young brother of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I work as a security guard to pay the bills, and I study criminology at Carleton University because I dream of working in law enforcement someday.

Emily Dedham, my girlfriend of two years, is simply heaven-sent, ladies and gentlemen. A lot of guys say that about their ladies, but I mean it. I think I got a good one in my hands. Lord knows what I had to go through before finding her. Before I met Emily, my life was in a downward spiral. If a man lets a bad woman into his life, she can fuck things up in ways the poor shmuck couldn't imagine. A while ago, a hurricane called Annie Andrade blew me into my life, and wrecked things for a bit. Fortunately, like all bad things, it came to an end.

Annie and I met at the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa, the day the movie The Dictator opened in theaters. I was standing in line at the box office and spotted this tall, curvaceous and downright sexy young black woman standing there by herself. Typically, pretty sisters like her don't venture nowhere without their girlfriends or some male friend with them. Yet here she was. In an uncharacteristically bold move, I approached her and asked her what movie she was seeing.

The young woman looked at me, smiled and told me she was here to watch the dude from Borat. I smiled and told her I was thinking of seeing the same movie. Grinning, she asked me if I wanted to sit together. Thus Annie and I went into the movie theater, two perfect strangers, and sat next to each other, talking like old friends about Hollywood actor Sasha Baron Cohen's movies, much to the annoyance of other moviegoers, whom we casually ignored. You have to understand that things like that don't typically happen to me.

I've always been painfully shy with the ladies, even though I've been told time and again that I'm a good-looking guy. I'm six-foot-one, with a cute face, or so I've been told, but a somewhat chubby body. I weigh two hundred and seventy pounds. Like all of us, I've got my insecurities. For me, my weight and shyness are what have always held me back from living life to the fullest. I get noticed by the ladies but then I start talking to them and they see right through me, and tend to go for the nearest jerk. Annie wasn't like the others, or so I thought. I mean, here was a gorgeous black chick who definitely could have any man she wanted, and this gal wanted me.

From the get go, Annie didn't hide her interest in me. I thanked my lucky stars for meeting her. The gal was studying police foundations at La Cite Collegiale, and worked at Pizza Hut to make some extra cash. Oh, and she also loved comic books and action movies. I thought Annie had just dropped out of the sky. I read Marvel and DC Comics religiously and collect them the way old ladies collect cats. I didn't think there were women out there who shared my passions. Annie and I liked a lot of the same things.

For a black nerd like myself, meeting a gorgeous black female nerd with whom I could argue about whether Blade or Wolverine would fare better against zombies, that's the definition of love right there. For a while, Annie and I were happy together. We became inseparable, hanging out in malls, restaurants and movie theaters. I proudly introduced her to my friends, and I must say, we looked good together.

Things change in a man's life when he's got a lady on his arm. Your friends, co-workers and colleagues look at you different. I walked through the hallways of Carleton University while holding Annie's hand, and a lot of people looked at us, for we cut an impressive figure. A tall, well-dressed and intelligent brother holding hands with a gorgeous sister. Now that's definitely not something you see every day in Ottawa, that's for damn sure.

Understand that I wasn't used to anything of the sort. My whole life I've been a loner. Highly intelligent, friendly and easygoing, yet with very few friends. A guy with a decent amount of female friends and acquaintances but no girlfriend. A smart guy with a lot of academic accomplishments but no social life. The saga of the black male nerd, ladies and gentlemen. Annie was like an injection of life into my otherwise dreary existence. One I was most thankful for. I was glad to have someone like her in my life. How many black girls do you know are capable of appreciating intelligent, sensitive brothers instead of chasing thugs or worse, worshipping white guys? Yeah, that's what I thought.

In hindsight, Annie Andrade wasn't the angel I thought she was, and I definitely should have showed less naivete in my dealings with her. Still, what did I know? I was nineteen years old and in love for the first time. We've all made mistakes, and this was one of mine. You see, while I was going around wining and dining one Annie Andrade, she was busy giving up the booty to quite a few guys, some of whom were friends of mine.

Of course, I wouldn't discover this till it was too late. Annie began pushing me away, and like a fool, I sought her out, pleading with her to resume our relationship. Little did I know that this was her pattern. Annie typically finds a guy who's willing and able to take her around and show her a good time without making too many demands on her. Oh, and she also has a stable of guys she keeps around, trading sex for favors.

Man, I've been such a fool it's not even funny. In the end, I had to let go of my illusions of love and face the grim reality. Annie and I never had a relationship. The whole time this broad was just using me for fun and cash. Yup, I went out with a female sociopath. I'm not the first young man this happened to and I doubt I'm the last. Lesson learned, though. When something seems too damn good to be true, it usually is. Pass it on, fellas.

Even after Annie Andrade did what she did, part of me missed her. Eventually, though, I moved on. One day, while walking around Billings Bridge Mall, I literally bumped into this short, curvy blonde chick. My cell phone clattered to the floor, and got dented. I freaked out, man. The gal apologized profusely, and told me that she worked for a cell phone company and would do whatever she could to help me.

Upon hearing all that, I hesitated, for I'd only come to the mall to grab a bite. I was working at Alta Vista that day, and I only had forty five minutes before my shift began. I smiled at the young woman and shrugged casually, then took her up on her offer. For some reason, when I looked into this blonde-haired and blue-eyed beauty's face, I found myself smiling for no reason. Honestly? White girls aren't usually my type, especially bubbly gals like this cell phone saleswoman. I told her that I trusted her, as she peered over my smashed cell phone and ran my information on her computer. You're in good hands, the cute blonde said, smiling at me. Thus I met Emily Dedham.

Later, I would learn much about her. Emily Dedham was born in the City of Halifax, Nova Scotia, and moved to Ottawa for school. She was studying communications at Algonquin College, and worked at the cell phone store to make extra cash. Not only was this gal cute, but she proved to be a woman of her word. Emily got me a new cell phone after contacting my service provider, argued successfully that my warrantee should cover it, and explained to me that the new device would arrive in the mail within a few business days. In the meantime you'll have to use a loaner phone, Emily said.

Thank you ma'am, I said with a smile as I signed for the loaner phone. I looked at Emily, and felt beyond thankful for this young woman's help. I was about to turn to leave, when she stopped me cold. Grinning, Emily told me that in case I had any cell phone issues, or whatever, I could call her anytime for, ahem, tech support. Day or even late at night, Emily said, grinning suggestively. I looked at the cute, petite and curvy blonde gal with the bright eyes and smiled. Absolutely, I said, and punched her number into the phone.

I went to work that day with a smile on my face. Emily Dedham was something else. I called her the next day, and even though I knew I might sound too eager, I asked her to grab a bite with me. To my surprise, without fussing or bullshit, Emily said yes, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it all began. The romance destined to change my life. I fell in love with a gorgeous white chick from Nova Scotia, and I'm a black man from the island of Haiti. We're an odd pair, I know. But so what? Emily and I are happy together. When the moment comes to decide about love and fate, you just know.