Typical Haitian Live in the USA, by Fritz Monde

The original article was posted on Carl's Corner, Fritz Mode is a regular contributor to Carl's Corner

Here it is...

belpoz.com/picture-25Man, we're so busy with our lives, that its becoming hard not to lose track of who we are and where we've been or where we're heading.

Life in America changes you and not imperceptibly.

It is a fact that America is getting to become just like life in Haiti.

When you leave in the morning you really do not know if you're coming home.

You know...terrorist attacks, deranged mortals taking everyone out, drunk drivers, hurricanes, tornadoes, embolism.

You name it, it's there to kill you.

But let's not be morbid.

Let's look at the typical morning.

You wake up feeling dread because you want to be sure that Florid Power and Light is not coming to turn off the electricity because you're behind in payments, so discreetly you call the company number to hear what your balance is and to ask them if they're coming to turn off the good old electricity.

Of course you do this without your wife finding out so you won't have to present a litany of reasons/excuses or hear a litany of your deficiencies from her.

Do I hear blood pressure.

YEAH!

So your day is ruined from the giddyap.

Well, now you stretch on the bed and the warm body of your soulmate is there, however she's only there physically because she's also contemplating on how she's going to cover the grocery check she wrote last night for one week’s worth of groceries.

Let's see that's $275 big ones.

Sounds familiar.

Now both of you are in dread.

But women are different their blood pressure doesn't go up.

You keep one eye on the clock that ticks eternally forward and the other hand snakes toward the bountiful breast when you hear.

"No, you not trying, with the kids waking up, and the headache I have.

You see blood pressure for women is the HEADACHE!

But to placate you, the horny man, who is always horny no matter what is happening, she says: "Save it for tonight".

You, all knowing, know that tonight like so many other nights never comes, so you whisper, bad breath and all, "I'll be quick".

To your other head's chagrin she moves off the bed and into the kids room to wake them up.

Man, what have we come too, when you can't even get a quickie, you say to yourself.

My friend that is how it is.

You rise off the bed with your lower buddy straining, when the dog rolls up and you think; 'If that little SOB comes near me....but, wait is the dog laughing at me.

Let's hear what doggie has to say.

"Hey Master, can't get the quickie, so do like the other moron humans do, master your hand, Arrf!

Arrf!

So now you’re off to work and as soon as you turn off the quiet or noisy neighborhood you live in, you hit traffic.

Metal machinery going nowhere fast and the A/C is swallowing the $3.00 gas in your tank.

You flick the radio dial but talk radio ain't saying nothing you haven't heard before so your eyes go cruising across the next lane where arros con pollo mamasita is sitting in her brand new whatever primping herself at the light, while she raises her bindas and goes faster and louder than any car in a NASCAR race.

Money, money, money.

Man you didn't live like that in the old country but the old country would have probably turned your woman into an early widow because that's the truth.

Your $100 a month cell phone rings and it's your daughter; "Daddy, don't forget the dress I need for the Cotillion Ball this Saturday, bye," and the phone goes dead just like that empty billfold in your back pocket.

Money.

money, money.

You turn on the radio and there's another school shooting somewhere in Jasper, Illinois.

You think about all the sacrifices you and the missus have made to have some f~=ed up child come to your school with his Daddy's NRA rifle and as we say in the old country 'Blayi tou moun a tè'.

The thought makes your blood run cold because not only do you have to worry about your children, but you also have to worry about someone else's child you don't even know.

You get to work and the stress from driving there has you all tired out, but you're going to drink some of that colada, better known as Cuban gasoline and that will set you right for a few hours, it also sends your heart rate and blood pressure way up.

You work, work and work and when quitting time comes you remember your daughter's call and the $150 suckers you're going to have to put out to keep her happy.

So you ask around or rather you drag your feet around looking for OT, OT, OT.

OT is the way �"blan” keeps us working for free because you already know the tax man cometh on each paycheck.

But OT, OT, OT, finally you get it and for four more hours your tired feet drag, and you look at the ticking clock for that end of shift.

Whew!

you say when it comes.

You get home and everyone is busy.

"Daddy can you help me with trigonometry," your precious ask.

You look at the mom because trig to you is like looking into Jaws vacant eyes.

Fugggetaboooutit.

Your harried wife, home from a full days work, now works diligently with the young son, that pride and joy, whose head is like a block of concrete because whatever Mom is teaching him does not register at all.

I'll go upstairs with the cold pizza and the cold soda in the fridge and relax a moment.

You strip and look in the mirror and the mirror doesn't lie, that fat around your gut is there and even though you go to the gym the fat is there.

You need to do sit-ups.

Yeah you say, the next time I go.

The mirror says: "Man you've been going a whole year and you know what, the fat is there".

Now you attend to house chores.

Rinse off the cars, check both oil levels and water levels.

Your wife reminds you the children need clothes washed so you load the laundry and afterwards you pass the vacuum, walk the dog, put dishes in the dishwasher or wash them by hand.

Tick, Tock, the clock never stops.

When you’re finished you're really, really tired.

Now everyone has retired and its near midnight when you climb into bed.

The children are fast asleep and the missus is watching late night boobtube.

Aha!

your lower friend awakens and says go ahead and try, so you get comfortable in bed and reach over and immediately your hand is stopped far away from any known warmth and a voice rises like the parting of the Red Sea and says: "After what I went through tonight and you want to do exactly what!" Your upper head skulks and the lower one loses any blood pressure and momentum it fascinated about.

You turn over and catch the doggie looking at you.

Sh...t is that dog laughing at me and sleep carries you away peacefully, unfulfilled and TICK, TOCK.

Fritz Mondé

Thanks Carl for pointing this out to me, part of it is me in a nutshell, I won't tell you which part!

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