MY OWN PRIVATE TYRA

There was a twenty-minute gap between our first and second customer this morning. It’s unsettling when that happens. I was done the dishes and the place was pretty clean and I hate just standing there. I wad dying to talk about the Air India verdict with Peggy but thought it best to let her bring it up. The news depresses Peggy; the only news coverage she follows is the Tour de France.

I was dying to tell someone how frustrated I am with the Canadian Justice System. How it’s really starting to look like a Crown Attorney can’t convict a case unless it’s in the defense of the government. Or how a judge could decide that every government witness lacked credibility! Is there something we’re not being told? Had Canada’s safety been threatened if the judge convicted. What the fuck is going on in chambers? And if that wasn’t bad enough, not only did Robert Blake get off for killing his wife, Congress approved drilling for oil in the Alaskan Federal Reserves.

So instead I asked her if she had seen America’s Next Top Model?

“You watch that show?” she asked.

“Sometimes.”

“I just assumed that wasn’t your cup of tea.”

“It is and isn’t. But Entertainment Tonight had a preview of one of the contestants passing out, so I had to watch it. I even stuffed my face with a Canadian Maple from Tim Horton’s while it was on.”

“What were you doing watching Entertainment Tonight?”

“I was surfing.”

“So what happened?”

“Of course it was at the end of the show. Rebecca, the girl who passed out, had won the runway competition.”

“The runway competition.”

“You should see the judge. He’s this big poor black nelly queen from the projects and now he’s the best runway coach in the world.”

“How do you know he’s poor and from the projects.”

“Because that’s the rags to riches story. And I’m white and that’s just the way television taught me to think. Besides, a nelly queen who rises to top of any profession is saying something. . But whatever …The prize was and five of her friends got a pair of designer shoes and the losers had to ‘service’ them in the shoe store. So of course It went to right Rebecca’s fucking head, she was all ‘I’m on top and they know it, and this a competition,’ all WWE, and so she made a lot of enemies. Then, in the middle of being judged, her eyes roll to the back of her head and she passes out! Tyra’s waving her hands in front of her face – no one’s doing anything because it’s the first time they’ve been confronted with a real life situation. It was hilarious.”

“Holy shit! Because she didn’t eat?”

“She said it was a condition she had since she was a kid.”

“What condition? Bulimia?”

“She didn’t say. She just said that was the first time she had blacked out in three or four years. She’s probably lying.”

“So was she cut?”

“No, believe it or not, she passed out and she made the cut. The girl with no grace was sent home.”

“Listen to you, ‘The girl with no grace…’”

“We should have a reality show here,” I said. “We can call it ‘Canada’s next Top Barista,’ and we can have contestants from all over the country. And we’ll give them these really ridiculous tasks that have nothing to do with coffee, and judge them on how they do.”
“I’ll get right on that.”

“And I can be Tyra.”

If I were a judge, I would be a lot like Tyra – always looking for the good in everyone, but not afraid to tell it like it is, and benevolent. Unlike the judge in the Air India trial.

GarpinBC