Hello, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. I'm your host this evening, the Storyteller. Welcome to my open book of tales. This series will be a compilation of individuals who decided to share their stories with me...and now I'm going to share them with you. Our first story starts with Randall, a young man who lives in an apartment complex.
"I moved into Savage Apartments with my family last year. Actually, it's called Goodman Apartments, you'll find out shortly why I referred to it as "Savage Apartments." It's not the sub-division we were staying in at the first This is more of a complex, you're bunched with other residents, in this case, there are people living below and beside us.
It's predominately a black neighborhood, and unfortunately where there's blacks, you're typically bound to have your fair share of negroes. Yes, I know you have rotten, low-down snakes in every race; you have jackasses in every race, I'm well aware of that, but I'm sticking to the subject here. I'm not sure if it's the people who are living below us, the people on the side, or a combination of both, but the buffoonery is raw in the likes of which Vince McMahon has never seen.
Vince has Monday Night Raw (among other programs), but what I witness is Every Night Raw. These savages are almost always at each other throats. At some point through out the day, night, middle of the night, it doesn't matter, you're going to hear yelling, arguing, choice words, and sometimes physical altercations.
Just recently, I was getting some good rest, and all of sudden...aggressive bickering, arguing, with some threats in between. I thought to myself: 'There they go; it's the savages.' Rain, sleet, hail, or snow, nothing stops these savages. I mean that literally. The other week, it's pouring down raining, and I hear this guy outside verbally lacerating someone-- probably his baby's momma or a side piece-- over the phone.
I'm sure it's random people at times, I mean, everybody has issues and disagreements here and there, but these particular savages seem to be a negro male and female couple. They're constantly arguing, and I don't mean simply a heated exchange, they're hysterically screaming at each other. Sometimes, they end up dragging other people-- I'm not sure if it's family members, friends or what-- into their mess. Now you have a gang of savages going back and forth, back and forth.
I had a relative once tell me that it's healthy to argue. I thought that was retarded logic back then, and I definitely believe that today. Again, I realize you're going to have disagreements, but if I'm in a relationship where we're constantly arguing, that's a relationship that's not for me, especially if gets to the point where it becomes physical. It's just best we part ways. If this is what "Black Love" is supposed to be, then I don't want any part of it.
On a side note, it's a catch-22 for a certain percentage of us. If you're in a white neighborhood, the sheet people will show you better than they can tell you that they don't want you there, you live with blacks, and you deal with the kind of savages I just mentioned, or the apes who hate seeing with you things, and decide they want to take it. At the end of the day, one of the goals that's on my horizon is getting my own place, but in comparison, I'd much rather live in a sub-division. Everyone has their own space, and you're not compressed in between the drama."
Gee. Hopefully, Randall can accomplish his goal of getting his own place sooner rather than later. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that wraps up our first story. This has been your host, the Storyteller. Until the next episode, good night.
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