I spent the day moving and was terrified at what I found in my complex.

Before moving in, my new building manager kept telling me about my neighbors Pam and David. He told me how nice they were. How sweet they were. How they’d be more than willing to watch my cat or feed my sugar glider.

What he did not tell me what that Pam and David…were black.

I discovered this nick on the property value as I was already hours deep into the move. 

Not only are they black, they are older and kind and wise. I’m basically living next door to Morgan Freeman.

This not only takes the black to white ratio of my location up too high, it also tempts me, daily. The niceness is attractive and I would love to get their experienced thoughts on investment opportunities, the state of the education system or whether or not this guy is worth the effort. 

They also make what smells like a perfectly prepared sweet potato casserole with fantastically seasoned pork chops. 

Why must they taunt me? Oh, I see. They think I can’t stand up to their sweet faces and their delicious food. But watch me. I will proudly live next door to them and never once darken their doorstep. 

Unless they pull out the banana pudding, too. Everyone has an Achille’s Heel.