TED'S GOT A BLACK GUY IN HIS HOUSE...I THINK

I just can't find him...I just hear him, at least I think I do. I'm quite possibly losing my fucking mind. Last night I layed on the couch and watched True Blood on HBO. I've got one of those annoying colds where you only cough at bedtime so I was laying there coughing like Beth in Little Women. The show was over I turned off the TV to go to bed. I walked into my bathroom opened the closet, swigged some Tylenol nighttime cold remedy and grabbed for the Mucinex. I was about to unscrew the cap when I distinctly heard a black man say, "You don't want to do that brother." I froze dead in my tracks and stood silently for about three minutes. At first I thought the TV had popped back on, but it hadn't. I stood there silent listening for any movement or noise but there was none. When I thought it safe enough to unscrew the mucinex, I did so, but quietly, so as to not let the big black man, that obviously is not a fan of mixing medications, know that I was going against his wishes. I took out one pill and put the cap back on as silently as I could, then I gently crept into my kitchen to get a glass of water for my pill.


As I turned the water on, again I heard a disembodied, yet distinctly African American male voice say, "Nuh uh, partner." Again I froze. I turned the water off and stood there silently, listening for a black guy moving around my house with my pill clenched between my front teeth and a glass of water in my hand. I looked out the window. Maybe there's a random black guy outside spying on me giving me medical advice. I couldn't see one. I quickly took the pill and washed it down with the water. I'll be damned if some invisible black man is gonna try to stop me from taking mucinex dammit. I glanced around for a weapon, just in case someone had somehow slipped into my house without me knowing it and decided to make himself known at the very moment of my cold medicine intake. I was within Arms reach of many knives but felt my belt with it's large metal buckle might make for a less lethal method of self defense. After all, he had only shown disfavor with my choice of medicine which though unsettling didn't really warrant a stabbing, maybe a metal belt buckle to the eye, but not a stabbing. I walked around the house whispering, "Hello? Large black man? Are you here?" Then I thought, maybe he likes motown so I started singing 'ain't too proud to beg' hoping he'd feel the urge to join in and reveal himself. Nothing. Maybe a poor choice of song, perhaps, Poppa was a rolling stone? DMX's 'My Niggas'? Nothing. I walked around my house with my belt ready to sting the eye of any possible negro assailant, but to no avail. There wasn't a single black person in my house.

I went upstairs to look for him. I went into my kids room and looked once more out the window, I checked their closet and finding no one gave them both a kiss on their cute little sleeping heads. Then I went into my bedroom and woke my sleeping wife, I sat down next to her on the bed and whispered softly, "Don't be alarmed but there might be a gigantic black guy, quite possibly an escaped convict, hiding somewhere within our house, don't worry, go back to sleep." I didn't want to keep my wife awake all night with my coughing so I decided to sleep in the guest room. The only room with a lock on the door and the last place a murderous home invading psychopath would look mid slaughter. I slept like a baby. Black guy and all.