Black And Male In Ottawa
- 3 years ago
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Black Male Genius In Ottawa free porn video
Keeping away from nutcases is always a good idea. My problem is that I’m basically a magnet for them. Seriously, on the bus, the train and at work, at the school library and everywhere I go. They’re there, passive-aggressively sneezing, coughing, staring, spitting and hatefully staring in my general direction. Can someone save me from them? The name is Samuel ‘Sammy’ Vivant and I’m a young man living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. My father Joseph Vivant is Haitian and my mother Mira Santiago is Hispanic, originally from Venezuela. They met at university while in Montreal, fell in love, got hitched and had little old me.
I am the offspring of an interracial couple. Technically that makes me biracial but I identify as black. Six feet tall, burly, brown-skinned and black-haired, that’s me. I am used to people staring at my parents and I whenever we’re out in public together. I study Criminal Justice at Canada’s Capital University, and when I’m not in class or at home, I’m working security in a government building downtown. You know, one of those places full of middle-aged bozos with inflated egos. Enter at your own risk, ladies and gentlemen. The most boring, tedious, dull and bigoted human beings in existence work there.
A lot of people don’t like their jobs but they’re not starting to slip mentally like I feel I might be. I try to keep my head down and just do the job, but I really can’t stand the fuckers. Add to that the fact that the other security guard on site is a passive-aggressive older white dude named Donald Gardener, and you can understand why I can’t stand my job. I’m close to completing my studies at school, so I can’t afford to quit my job now. You don’t give up when you’re close to the finish line, folks. What would be the point?
Anyhow, the part of my job I hate the most is riding the elevator with all of these government worker types. Everyone is middle-aged, portly, dull and boring. They have endless conversations about cottages, and lament the fact that their idol Stephen Harper, Canada’s deeply Conservative and bigoted former Dictator-in-Chief lost in the October 19, 2015 election. Seriously, that’s all they talk about and their discomfort and their fear about a racially diverse future for Canada is sweet nectar to me.
The Liberals are in power now, and they’re a racially diverse and gender-inclusive bunch. I guess this royally pisses off the middle-aged, racist and sexist old white dudes working in Canadian government offices in downtown Ottawa. I wish these fuckers would retire and play bingo so the Canadian government could hire more young people. Like dinosaurs must have clung on after the asteroid fell, the bozos are still around. I wish I could say these old crones are my biggest problem right now, but they aren’t.
No, my problem is that I am starting to lose it. For five days a week I wake up at five in the morning so I can be at work downtown by six thirty in the morning. I live in the West End of Ottawa, which means riding the bus downtown takes me a long damn time. Every morning on the bus I see the same old faces. Let’s see, there’s an old white guy who wears a brown jacket, and he’s always sitting in the middle of the bus next to a mousy-looking brunette, and this tough-faced, dark-haired broad with hard dark eyes and kind of a nice ass. Government workers one and all, I know the look at this point.
They always look at me, because I’m the only person on the bus who is not old and pale. They’re wondering what my occupation is. I live within walking distance of the bus station, in a middle-class area of Ottawa. They’re always assessing people. I can see right through them. I typically wear a dark jacket with a nice dress shirt and black dress pants, complete with my black timberland boots. I don’t wear my security shirt on the bus or anyplace other than inside the building where I work, and only during working hours. I arrive dressed business casual and leave the same way. Bozos are always staring at me, thinking I’m awfully young to be working in a Canadian government building.
I guess they feel that they are the envy of the world. Let them wallow in their delusions. Not much awaits them besides a nursing home, endless bingo games and a grave. When I look at them, all I see is decay and entitlement, and I can’t tell you which one disgusts me more. I don’t want to work for the Canadian government. Too many middle-aged bozos and old people there. I hate the smug, boring and dull people who work there. Everyone’s gray and wrinkly. Thanks but no thanks. I want to go to Law School and practice law.
Seriously, I don’t want to be one of those creeps who walk around downtown with their government worker’s ID badges around their necks and either a cigarette or a coffee cup in their hand. I don’t want to spend the rest of my adult life in some boring government office, wasting the government’s time because I come down the elevator every hour to smoke or chit-chat, or gossip. These people are wasting the Canadian taxpayer’s time with their bullshit. Seriously, if you work eight hours a day, and you have a paid lunch, you shouldn’t duck away from your work station or desk or whatever every hour. That’s called being a cheat. I can’t stand those.
What do I want to do with my life? I want to be a criminal defense attorney. I want to help people in need. I know that Law School isn’t cheap but my grades are good and my professors like me and like my work. I know I can get in. Paying for it is another matter, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. I consistently make Dean’s List almost every semester. Oh, and I’m not on OSAP like the majority of students at Canadian universities. Nope, I’m paying my own way as a security guard who makes twelve dollars per hour. Yes, it’s not glamorous and I put up with a lot of bullshit from people with low-IQs but when I graduate from university without any student debt, it would have been all worth it.
My life on campus isn’t all peaches and cream either. Let’s take my favorite class for example. We were discussion Abortion Rights, certainly a fairly controversial topic, and like the rest of my classmates, I listened with rapt attention as our professor, a rather unique, flamboyant and upbeat fellow, told us about the struggle of Canadian women for abortion access in New Brunswick. Something bugged me about the whole thing, and it had nothing to do with the topic. There was this annoying, kind of tomboyish white chick in a flannel shirt sitting behind me, and throughout the lecture, she kept bugging me by kicking the chair behind me, or putting her feet up on the chair right next to mine. Um, what the fuck?
Look, when it comes right down to it, I believe in showing some basic respect to all human beings. I don’t care if you’re black or white, male or female, straight or gay, I will show you some basic respect. That being said, don’t cross the line with me. Otherwise, well, I’m going to have to make your day a lot more unpleasant than it has to be. I cleared my throat loudly and Miss Flannel Shirt seemed to get the message and pulled her feet off the chair. A few minutes later, she resumed kicking the damn chair. Um, seriously? I tried to focus on the lecture, but the bullshit kept getting to me.
Finally, at the end of class, I had a few choice words for Miss Flannel Shirt. I told her I found her chair-kicking habit annoying. The flannel shirt chick, flanked by two of her friends, a black chick I’d seen in class and a white gal I didn’t know, stared awkwardly. I walked away, and that’s when she began talking trash to her friends. I went to the campus library and wrote an email to the professor detailing the incident. Look, I believe in being careful, alright?
In this world, if you’re a black man, everyone seems to be out to get you. Male or female, straight or gay, rich or poor, everyone seems to have something against us brothers. Most of us are fairly nice people, so I don’t know what their problem is. That being said, I don’t make
a habit of underestimating anyone. I’ve seen false accusations made by women ruin men much more powerful than myself. Knowing how campuses routinely trample over guys in favor of women, I made sure I let the admin know about the incident. That way, if something comes of it, at least I was the first one to approach the appropriate the authorities. Be on the offensive, not the defensive. It’s the better position to be.
Alright, some of you think I’m exaggerating. I can see your heads shaking on this one. Whatever. Oh, and for the feminist types and what-have-you who are reading this, you know I’m right. False allegations made by women can ruin even powerful men, and I’m not a powerful man yet. So, black or white, male or female, straight or gay, rich or poor, I consider everyone who isn’t me at least a potential threat to me. So, when they initiate hostilities, I process it intellectually, come up with a sound strategy and take action.
Yeah, I’m working hard, excelling at school, staying out of trouble, dealing cleverly with my enemies, and staying ahead of the game. The only thing lacking in this soap opera that my life has become is a leading lady. There was one, once. Her name was Annie. Tall, lovely, smart, and Haitian. We met at a movie theater in 2012 and she stayed in my life until late 2014. I miss her quite often at times. Annie was good to me, and we had some wonderful times, but you can’t have a love story when it’s just one person in love, while the other, due to having been hurt in past relationships, is afraid to love. I tried my best with Annie, I was patient with her, but it wasn’t good enough. The damage that bad men do to good women’s hearts causes good men to suffer. I wish Annie the best with her future, though it is not with me.
Anyhow, enough of this romantic stuff. I’m mere months away from graduating in the Criminal Justice program at Canada’s Capital University. My LSAT scores are excellent and I’ve gotten accepted at the University of Ottawa. I am already looking for a better job. Playing servant to the boring, dull and bigoted old crones who work for the Canadian government doesn’t suit a man of my intellect. For now, I’m playing along and paying my bills. Got to live one day at a time, you know?
As for the future, who knows what it can bring? I’m sure there are plenty of lovely, intelligent women in law school and I’ll meet plenty once I get there. The gals at my school lack maturity, and while I’ve had a few dalliances with them, they’re not the type you take home to meet mama and papa. One last thing before I leave. I wasn’t totally honest about the reason why I hate government workers. They are annoying, and dull, and bigoted, all this is true. The reason I despise them is much more personal.
Alright, I might as well fess up since we’re at the end of this journey. Canadian government workers irk me for a very I don’t like the way they treat us security people, and the cleaners and even the helmeted contractors like we’re subhuman. Anyhow, this lousy job will soon be in my past. I’ve got my Law School Acceptance letter framed, and next September I will be in Law School. Still, if I ever become the type of bozo who feels superior to other human beings on account to his income or occupation, you are more than welcome to deck me. I am dead serious. Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor, for I would have become everyone I presently hate. Goodnight.
Valentina
- 23.06.2020
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