This morning at 2:30, our regular customer came in. He is a 35 year old Nigerian cab driver. He is always polite and enthusiastic about work and America. I asked him how it was out there as Bubba rang out his order and I took my lunch break on the bench.

“Sir, thank Dear Jesus above that I am alive! I made good money tonight. People did not want the buses, were being targeted at bus stops. I was driving down Eastern Avenue into Canton and Fells Point to see if anyone needed a ride. You know, Sir, it is all yuppies moving in up there. The demographics have changed, and these yuppies cannot fend for themselves. So I was looking out for them, suspecting a need for help. I got to Fell’s Point and the blacks were coming with sticks and bricks so I pulled out. Not a cop in sight.

“I headed back east up this way looking for needful people. As I was crossing Alicane I saw ten black men with heavy clubs. They were about to cross the street. On the other side of the street was this blonde woman, just standing, wondering, waiting for the bus—a woman of the yuppies. I U-turned and pulled up, saying, ‘Miss get in, quick!’

“She dove in and I pulled off with the blacks in pursuit.

[This guy is blacker than any American black I have met. I like his accent.]

“The lady directed me to her home at Highland and Fayette. When I pulled across Highland these fifteen black men wave me over to them. They wanted the blonde woman!

“I did a U-urn and screeched wheels and they began firing handguns at us—boom, boom, boom! I thought we would die, but their fire discipline is as poor as their manners.

“I took the lady to a hotel, and we both thanked Dear Jesus above.”

I asked him, “What is your name, Sir?”

“Boomy, Sir, I am Boomy—a Christian. What is your name, Sir?

“James.”

“Well Sir James, I have something to say, and I do not wish you to take insult from it.”

“Sure, Boomy, what is it?”

“Sir, I love America—your wonderful country, and am glad to be blessed in being here. But your mayor is a stupid woman that should be married off to Boka Harum, and your niցցers, Sir—your niցցers are useless and out of control, and need to be shipped off somewhere very far away from decent people. Good day, Sir, and God bless!”

It felt kind of odd sitting there after that, what without my horse, my saber, my field glasses, my bugler, or my six troops of cavalry. The beard though—the beard looked the part! I suppose, in my present impoverished condition it shall take some time for me to round up and discipline my rampaging chattel.

I’ll do what I can Boomy.

And Boomy, on behalf of the blonde woman, I thank you, and wonder also, if we had white men of your character living along the East Side, rather than ‘yuppies’ would this even have happened?