Pajamas Are A Horrible Thing!

I travel somewhat frequently and when I do, I go through major airports.  I don’t mind the couple hours delay or wait until I am to board my flight, it gives me time to people watch and wonder where this or that person is going and why.  I also notice the fashion and the way certain people carry themselves in public.  I notice the people heading to the Caribbean just got their hair done, nails DID, outfit is on point, and they look great.  Some of them are a little too extra, if you know what I mean, but they still put in the effort.  I notice those waiting at gates heading to Europe, Asia, Africa, you name it they put in the effort to return home looking sharp.  Canada?!  *SMH*

I know it seems like I’m going in on Canadians this week, but really we’ve got to do better.  This is where I claim Jamaica first. Lol.  So I head on over towards the gates hosting Canadian flights and my eyes are molested by a slew of mofos wearing pajamas. Now those of you who know me and some who don’t, know that I don’t own the horrible things.  I think they’re a nuisance and an unnecessary burden.  They are meant to be worn in your home, in your bed, at night (I don’t understand why, but blah).  The furthest your jammies ought to go is to the front door to fetch the mail and/or newspaper.  Bad enough I had to endure frowzy people in high school classes who rolled out of bed without bothering to change, but international travel?  That’s how we represent?  Get it together people.

I think we should all just have a bonfire with the jammies and sleep naked all the time.  I know it’s winter just about 11 out of 12 months, that’s what an abundance of comforters & fleece blankets are for.  Did I miss the Air Canada memo sent out on golden maple leaves about a slumber party in the sky?

If you want to travel in comfort and style, please go purchase some yoga pants from Lululemon with the matching jacket or an oversized Wilfred sweater from Aritzia.  Leave the pajamas burning in the fireplace at home please and thanks.  Time and a place people, time and a place!

P.S. I do love Canada, really I do.  Apart from this -50 weekend.  Other than that it’s mostly all roses and I wouldn’t trade it.  So don’t get your jammies in bunch eh!

*Cue music* “Oh Canada, our home and native land…”

Nikks

Cuz You Got All C’s In High School?

I think most White Canadians would like the world to believe that racism and racial profiling is unique only to the United States, well I’m here to tell you it isn’t.  I remember the first and only time I was called a “nigger” to my face.  I was about fourteen or fifteen years old.  I was walking in the mall with my two friends and a bald headed, white, trailor park, welfare check spending, inbred, and possible clan member male walked by me and coughed up the word “nigger”.  I never looked back, I never let it bother.  In fact, I believe it bothered my two non-Black friends more than it did me.  I knew I wasn’t that word.

Reason for post, here we go.  So my brother got a car from our parents when he got his license, just like I did at sixteen.  He’s been driving for awhile and lately it seems like he can’t leave the house without returning with a ticket.  During the summer he went out with some friends.  He drove his car and another friend, a White kid drove another car.  They parked in an Impark lot which allowed them two hours free parking at night.  As they exited the lot, they happened to spot the parking meter guy watching them as they made their way to the club.  They came back out about an hour later and my brother had a ticket on his car.  Supposedly he went over two hours.  Funny thing is, the car with the White kids, who arrived the exact same time, did not have a ticket.  You can come up with your own conclusions.

Big sis Nik, yep that’s me!  I don’t stand for that kind of shit.  So I called them and let them know who was in what car and who got a ticket and who did not.  You better believe that woman that answered the phone didn’t want to have that talk, she quickly rid us of the ticket and apologized.

So the kid went out with two of his friends this past weekend and on his way home, his windows started frosting up because our parents moved us to Antarctica so he decided to pull over and try to scrape the frost off.  He put his hazards on and pulled over to the side of the road.  A car pulled up behind him, an unmarked car, then lights started flashing.  So cop approaches and asked him why he pulled over.  He let the officer know that his car was frosting up and he pulled over to scrape it off.  Cop asks for license, comes back about five minutes later and hands him a ticket.  The offense? Driving with an obscured view.  Really motha##### because he didn’t just tell you that?  He was already pulled over, he was responsible enough to pull over and acknowledged that his shit was frosted up, so why the ticket?  You can come to your own conclusions.

I myself got ticketed for having tinted windows.  Really, come up with a better excuse than that coppy!  I was driving downtown, it was raining, had my hood on my head, going the speed limit, minding my business.  There’s this car next to me, dudes looking over, I can see out the corner of my eye.  I ignore him and keep going.  He stares at me again.  I switch lanes, he switches and drives behind me.  Lights flashing behind me, I pulled over.  I put my windows down.

Nik: *Takes off hood, shakes hair out, my mother’s listening through my bluetooth!  She’s telling me to be nice.* “What is it?”

Cop: *Surprised, not a suspicious Black male* “Oh, um, ahh, license and registration please?”

Nik: *Speaking sarcastically and slowly* “Okay, I’m going to reach over very slowly and retrieve it!” *In Patois, so cop won’t understand.* “Suh try yuh bess nuh shoot mi!” *Mom in earpiece, “Stop it!”*

Cop: “Go ahead ma’am.”

I hand the bastard my info, he comes back with $130 ticket.

Cop: “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

Nik: “No!” *Patois “Mi mussi fava Ms. Cleo!*

Anyway he gave me a ticket for driving a new car while Black tinted windows.

Yes profiling happens in Canada, I am fighting this one and teaching my baby brother how to stand up for himself.  Hating ass cops!  I will never ever let anyone discriminate or treat me less than a human being because of the beautiful color of my fabulous skin.  Kick rocks and get bent!  Or in the words of Sarah Silverman, when asked if she knew why she was pulled over, “Cuz you got all C’s in high school?”

Nikks

Do You See What I See?

I watch a lot of movies.  I should be inducted into the movie watchers hall of fame.  If I had a bad day and reading can’t take my mind away, I like to go watch a movie and get lost in that dark theatre for a couple hours.  The smell of popcorn, the m&m’s thrown in the popcorn (I thought it was gross too, but my friend changed my mind), a nice cold coke zero, it’s like a party in my mouth! The one thing I can live without are the little corn fed inbreds teenaged brats, who like to kick my seat and make me threaten to whoop their asses after I drag them out by the hair irritated.  Well this isn’t about that, that’ll be some other post I’m sure.

So earlier this year as I sat in the theatre waiting for Harry Potter to start, something popped into my head.  I leaned over and asked my friend:

Nik: “Do you see what I see?”

Friend: “What do you mean?  Do you see someone we know?”

Nik: “Naw, I was just wondering if you see the same things I do?”

Friend: “You mean like the people, the lights, the stairs, that kind of thing?”

Nik: “Yes, but I mean do you really really see them?”

She looked at me with a confused expression.  I guess what I wondered was if she saw the vibrant red of the curtains, the sparkle of the lights like stars in a dim sky? Does the man with the chocolate skin who might be more delectable than the bag of M&Ms in my hand appear to her the same way?  Did the popcorn taste the same to her as it did to me, did the coke zero spill over her tongue, tingle, and flow easily down her throat like it did mine?

I know we don’t all interpret things the same way, but I wondered for a minute or five what it would be like to be inside someone else’s head and see life, objects, and people through their eyes?  If food taste exactly the same to them as it does to me?  Life is beautiful, intriguing, and full of so many delightful things. Do you see what I see?

Nikks