So You Had a Bad Day

It's amazing how, no matter what is going on in his life, a man's mind is always on sex. Take me for example. My name is Samuel Eugene and I am a big and tall Haitian guy living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. The last Saturday of November 2013 was simply pure hell for me. Sometimes, man, all your problems start piling up and it's a snowball effect. Before you know it, your ass is up shit's creek without a damn paddle. What's a brother to do?

First, I got a notice from Carleton University telling me that if I didn't pay them the nine hundred bucks I owed them by December twentieth, they'd refer me to a collection agency. Oh, and I got into a fight with my asshole of a roommate, a punk named D.N. from Burundi. Dude attacked me when I told his ass he takes too long in the damn washroom. Although caught by surprise, I defended myself pretty good, repelling him. Then his girlfriend Jessica Q. jumped in to separate us. I went to talk to my building superintendent about what happened and since dude wasn't there, I borrowed his nephew's phone to call the cops. My own cell phone isn't working, got cut for nonpayment by those geniuses at FIDO. The worst cell phone company in history.

Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yeah. I was telling you about my shitty day. The cops showed up, a white guy with a French last name and a pretty white lady with blondish hair. I spoke to both of them, addressing the dude in French because I know French Canadians love it when you speak their language. Hey, anything to get the police on my side, you know? Shit, I'm already black. Anyhow, the cops spoke to me and then they went up to the apartment to speak with N.D. and his girlfriend Jessica Q. After a lot of talking, the cops didn't do shit. The dude attacked me without reason and they wouldn't arrest him or give him a warning or anything. Great. My tax dollars at work, ladies and gentlemen. Isn't that peachy keen?

You could understand why I felt grumpy and on edge for the rest of the day. I owe the school a lot of money, which I'm not sure I will be able to pay on time since I work for a security company that only pays me eleven dollars per hour. I've got rent and groceries to pay and all that shit adds up. This is supposed to be my last year in the undergraduate criminology program at Carleton University. I am not trying to fuck it up. Seriously. Anyhow, I went to the campus library to kill time until my next shit. Around ten I left the university library, and caught the bus. I got off the number four bus leaving Carleton for Rideau Center. I got off somewhere on Bronson, and decided to walk the rest of the way since the security company has me working at a construction site near Catherine Street. Long story short? I ended up arriving at eleven ten for my eleven o'clock shift that night. The dude I replaced, an old white guy I'd seen at a previous work site, was not happy. Dude even called the security management team in Toronto to try to get me in trouble. Luckily they pretty much ignored his ass. He shot me an angry look, then left.

The construction site where I work is going to be some kind of grocery store, and it's located not too far from the police station downtown. The same station those geniuses from Saturday afternoon came from. Is it me or are cops useless until someone's dead or seriously injured? I don't think they take prevention seriously. I think they feel they don't have a case until someone's six feet under or seriously fucked up. Since I have no intention of ending up in either of those categories, I'm looking at all options when it comes to dealing with my psychotic roommate N.D. The motherfucker has got to go but his Burundian ass shows no sign of wanting to leave. In fact, my superintendent told me one of N.D.'s friends was asking him if he had a spare room in the apartment building. Great. Just what I need. Not enough that this crazy punk is over at my place with his girlfriend ( who's not paying rent by the way ) but his buddies want to move in too? Shit. When it rains it frigging pours, eh?

Anyways, I decided to enjoy my usually lousy job because at least it was time away from N.D. and his craziness. I've got a friend at church who's a lawyer. I'm going to ask him for some tips on how to evict the Burundian asshole. It's not going to be easy but someone's got to do it. The construction site where I work is mad cold, man. It's the frigging winter and the building isn't even heated. Luckily I've got my thick "artic" jacket on and gloves along with my four-year-old Timberland boots. I've had those boots since I used to live in the City of Brockton, Massachusetts. I had them on when I crossed the border between the U.S. and Canada at Fort Erie in November 2009. Yup, those are my lucky boots. They're mad old and I've had them fixed several times. I've got newer shoes but what can I say? I'm attached to these. I just don't want to be buried in them.

While at work, all I had to do was look after the cleaners since the construction guys were long gone. It's the weekend, you know? The cleaning crew was made up of two older Hispanic women and a couple of Hispanic guys. Now, I've lived in the Dominican Republic for a bit and know a smattering of Spanish. For the past few nights at work I've been chatting up this older but still nice-looking Hispanic broad named Maria. She's about fifty I think, standing five-foot-seven, with black hair and bronze skin. The gal is curvy, wide-hipped and big-bottomed, just the way I like my women.

Just harmless flirting, you know? I haven't been with a woman since my Haitian ex-girlfriend Anne June Angler dumped my black ass on the one-year anniversary of our first meeting. Apparently, she couldn't handle it when I revealed to her that I was bisexual. I've never been with a dude but I find both sexes attractive. I definitely prefer women, though. For real. I'm all about the females. Most of the time. I find Serena Williams enormous booty, Ashanti's curvy body and Beyonce's face to be the epitome of feminine beauty, but Lebron James got a tight body on him. Alright?

That night, Maria and I stood outside the construction site, having a smoke. While talking, I told her about the shitty day I'd had and my roommate N.D. craziness. I unconsciously rubbed my shoulder and neck where the crazy Burundian motherfucker had grabbed me. I'm bigger than him but he's got some strength on him and he caught me by surprise. Shit, dude's frigging crazy. Maria asked me if she could see where the dude had grabbed me. We went back inside and I unbuttoned my security uniform T-shirt to show her where the guy had grabbed me. I still had some bruises, though you got to really look to see them since I'm a dark-skinned brother. I am sorry this fool hurt you, Maria said, real concern in her voice. If he tries that shit again I will fuck him up, I told her with conviction.

Maria looked at me and smiled, then she took my face into her hands. We looked at each other for a long moment. Then she kissed me. Man, it was a deep, passionate kiss. Caught me by surprise, on a day full of surprises, but it turned out to be just what I needed. I know what you need, Maria told me. Taking my hand, she led me downstairs in the construction site's cold, dark basement. There, in a half-finished room, we got our freak on. Maria got on her knees, unzipped my pants, and freed my ebony cock. I seldom wear underwear, even on cold-ass winter days like this. Maria stroked my dick, then began sucking it. I love tall a dark Papi like you, she said in accented English, before resuming her sucking. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes as Maria sucked on my dick.

I opened my eyes the moment I came, exploding like a geyser. Maria didn't seem to mind, and she welcomed the torrent of cum that shot out of my dick like a cannon. Delicioso, she said as she slurped on my cum. I stood there, feeling my knees buckle. I sighed in pleasure, and smiled at Maria. Gimme a hand up, she said. I nodded, and pulled her to her feet. Feel better now? she asked me. Maria had a mischievous gleam in her eye right then. Yes ma'am I do, I said with a smile. I was about to say something else when noise from upstairs caught our attention. I looked at my still-on but useless cell phone and noticed it was six twenty seven in the morning. The security guy replacing me had arrived early, and he was upstairs, wondering aloud where I was. You better go, Maria told me. She turned to leave but impulsively I grabbed her hand. Thank you, I said, and gently kissed her hand like I'd seen guys do in them fancy movies. Then I took off and went upstairs. Time to head on home, it's Sunday morning.