Of Kisses...

“Kiss mi neck!! A really deh so di blinkin’ eeediat leave di machete?!!!” the angry woman shouted, bending to retrieve a machete protruding in the front lawn.

Machete

“Eeeeeeh? From mawning mi a tear down di place a look fi di machete and look where Wilbert leave it! Right inna di lawn! Hanybody can just pick it up and attack mi in a mi own yard!” her face was bright crimson and I figured that it was not only attributable to the heat of the sun.

“Why don’t you speak to him Ms. Gloria, explain that he must put it back in the storeroom after he is finished” the young woman said.

“Speak to him? Speak to him? How many time mi “speak” to him already? Mi tyad fi talk to him, look like him deaf or daft or both! If I ever see him now I feel like I would just tek it and gi him two %$**** SLAP wid it …cho!!!”

I find myself wondering if we share the same gardener! You see, the gardener NEVER puts things back where they belong – EVER – you waste precious time looking for tools that were NOT put back where they should have been. So forgetful! I wonder if that has anything to do with working long hours outdoors….hmmmmmmm. Anyway, I understand “Ms. Gloria’s” anguish as I have felt like knocking out the gardener many times before….

Another thing, this expression “Kiss mi neck” – an “old-time” phrase, is a bit puzzling to me as to its origin. Can someone enlighten me please? A few years ago a friend – a Spanish speaking native – was in the island on a project. He came to me one evening extremely bewildered because he heard the expression earlier in the day at the site. Apparently one of the locals, while conversing with another, said “Kiss mi neck!” My friend, who was standing right next to him looked and said “Keesss your neck? You want me to keeess  your neck? I don’t know hombre but where I come from one man do not keesss the neck of other man, I no keesss your neck!!!”

 

He did not understand why they were all laughing. I explained as best as I could (and with a straight face) that it was not a literal expression but sadly I could not tell him anything about its origin. Nevertheless I pointed out that the island has the reputation of being homophobic so he does not have to worry about a man just approaching him and asking for a kiss on the neck….

I must admit that I found his story quite funny…we are such a funny set of folks!

For example, while in the plazas yesterday I saw a beggar making his way towards the car. I have seen him on previous occasions and so I knew his story beforehand.  As soon as I was turning to close the door I saw that he was making a bee-line ….hmmmmmmm….he changed his mind. Then I realized why. There was a security guard, baton in hand, in pursuit and telling him to leave the property.

“Yuh deh everywhere, leave from here and stop molest di customers dem!!” the security said in a stern voice.

“Mi nah molest nobaddy, mi just a look a change bredrin” replied the beggar.

“Look how faaar yuh come from come all di way up yah so a beg!! You a come from downtown! Why yuh never go a Bank of Jamaica go beg, eeeh? You all pass Ministry of Finance before you reach yah!!!” the security’s voice was getting louder now.

Bank of Jamaica

 

“Yuh mad? Me can’t go dem place deh fi beg!!” the beggar responded incredulously.

“A Ministry of Finance and dem place deh you need fi go beg ‘cause a dem have di money! DON’T come back over here and mek mi catch you!!! You hear??!!!!!” the security was quite unyielding as he held the baton in the air and the beggar left hastily.

Even as I chuckle to myself, I cannot help musing over the exchange and wonder IF any beggars have ever tried begging at the Ministry of Finance or the Bank of Jamaica…

Ministry of Finance