One of my secrets...

I like the company of elderly black women.  There were some here, but Clara, my favorite, appears to have moved out, or died.

I also like the lavish dress-up that some black women do for Sunday.  I met one getting out of her car in the basement parking garage on a Sunday night.  I asked her if she knew why the fire alarm had gone off that morning.  (There was a kitchen fire directly below me, and I didn't even know it.)  She said, "No, I was in church."  Suddenly, I felt very small, like why wasn't I in church on Sunday morning?

I have no idea why I like such women.  When I talk with them, it's like I'm talking with the salt of the earth.  Maybe I should seek one out as a roommate to half costs.  Better yet, marry a widow "rich" from her deceased husband's life insurance and pension.  Wait.  A "black widow."  Mebbe not.