The next few years went by rather uneventfully, yet I was always insecure and in a constant state of anxiety about my beautiful blonde wife being approached by a black man. Those who do not understand will say that I am pathetic, which I know that I was, and still am. But, those who truly understand this will be able to sympathethize with me.
As Julie finished her degree during these next three years, I was always asking about her classes and the study groups she joined. I was asking for the same reasons. Luckily, there hadn't been anything significant going on and the fear of losing her to a black man began to subside in small amounts.
I was 42 now, and Julie had just turned 30. Our marriage had gone fairly well during this time despite the fact that we were only having sex about once a week. Julie didn't seem too concerned at the time, but it was obvious to me that this had become more of a task for her than anything else. We were in a "rut" so to speak, and I wasn't sure how to get out of it.
The money was there for us to go on more vacations, but I was insecure about many of the places Julie wanted to see. Places like Jamaica and Africa were greeted with a "no way" attitude from me. Of course, I gave the stock answer all the time.
"Maybe next year, honey?" I would say.
Things went on like this for the next two years as I continued to notice the astonishing increase in the number of interracial relationships in the community, and in the state. All of them were black men with white women. A sense of defeat loomed over me and probably all white men as the numbers continued to increase, as they continue to increase today, expodentially.
The realization that a little more than 12% of americans are black and over 70% are white came to mind. I continued questioning all the reasons why this was happening. Why were there so many white women with black men?
"Surely, it had to be more than just the size of their cocks?" I asked myself.
I found it increasingly difficult to avoid. Humiliatingly, my beautiful younger blonde wife was just beginning to notice it too. She noticed a few of our divorced female neighbors were now with black men, and had black children.
She made another comment during one of our visits to a beach. We were sitting there minding our own business when a black and white couple emerged and sat down to our left. They had a biracial and black child with them and the young man, who was about 20, was standing there in a bright yellow speedoes swimsuit. The bulge in the front pouch was embarrassing enough for me to see, but when my own wife made a comment about it that made things even worse.
"Would you ever wear a suit like that, honey?" she asked, casually.
"What? No way. Why?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing. Well, it can be sexy sometimes. Maybe you'd like to wear one for me once, huh?" she asked, with a hint of sarcasm.
I ignored that comment and wanted to leave so badly as she began small talk with the white woman, talking about the "cuteness" of their baby. I know it was all rather innocent, but I needed to leave, and we did.
It was about this time 2 years ago that I was offered a position with a new corporation. This position was in another state and carried with it a salary much higher than the already high salary I was making.
It seemed all too good to be true.
To me, it was an opportunity to move away to another place, and settle down with my beautiful wife of 5 plus years. I had turned 44, and Julie was now 32 and looking as young as the day I met her. She was excited about the change in scenery as well as the more than comfortable salary I would be making. She always wanted to start her own little business in a fresh new place, and this appeared to be a great opportunity for both of us.
Before we moved, I researched the demographics of the city and the community. I also made several visits to the corporate offices to feel my way around weeks before the start of this position. The new company was very helpful in providing information on which areas to purchase a home, but I was not ready for a larger home just yet.
Not during the first year of employment in a state that was foreign to me.
Besides, the condo market was much better and I had all but decided on that before I made my way to the desert state of Arizona.
On one of my visits, a future colleague mentioned an extremely exclusive, small but upscale condo community during lunch. His name was Phil, and he was a 39-year-old married white man with 2 teenaged girls. This condo community sounded too good to be true, It was about 30 miles from the corporate office in a larger city.
"Well, why don't you live there?" I asked him.
"No way. It's far too expensive for my blood. There's no way you can afford something like that." Phil stated.
I told my future colleague that I needed to find a place in 2 weeks. I wanted a place to move into before I started my new job and didn't want my wife and I to be living out of hotels while I worked. Despite Phil's reluctance, he gave me the name of the place and the name of the small, upscale suburb it was in.
"You can look, but I'm telling you it's really expensive." he warned, sarcastically.
After lunch in the cafeterria, I headed back to hotel do some research. I found the website and perused the community. I also pulled up the demographics and noticed the ritzy suburb had layed out a nice chart. They even charted community by community within that suburb.
The suburb of 335 was 96% white-caucasian, 2.9% latino, 1% asian, and .01% black-african american.
When I looked at the condo community, it had only one line. 100% white-caucasian.
"Wow. This seems like a nice place." I said to myself.
Back then, my racist mind was not about hatred at all. It was clearly more about respect for the black race and their noticeable and obvious sexual prowess with white women. To me, it was uncanny how easily they could get a white woman in bed. It was just something I wanted to keep away from myself, and from my young blonde wife.
I made a call and drove out that afternoon. The place was even more emmaculate than the pictures on their website. I was awed by the detail put into this building as I stood there waiting for Margaret, the condo association manager.
The small condo building contained only 14 units, which were set in a squared "U" shaped 2 story building around a huge pool area. There were seven units on the second floor and seven on the ground level. The parking lot was set off and outside to the right side of the building facing in.
The pool area was absolutely huge.
A large, pristine marbled deck area surrounded the entire pool while a small, in ground jacuzzi bordered one side. This area also had a small 4-stool Tiki-styled bar shaded by palm trees. As a matter of fact, the entire pool area was surrounded by lush palm trees for added privacy.
"Wow. This is amazing." I said to Margaret.
The building manager simply smiled.
"Yes, it's really quite private. The rest of the suburb is about a quarter of a mile away. It really is in the middle of nowhere." she said.
"That's good. Very good. It's just what I wanted." I replied.
The interior of these condos was even more impressive. Margaret showed me the only remaining condo left for sale. It was the condo apartment on the end and on the second level. One side wall faced the neatly paved parking lot suited for less than 30 cars, while the kitchen wall faced the pool area. As a matter of fact, all the condos had their kitchen areas facing the pool.
A nicely sized workout gym area was neatly set off to the side of the back entrance that led to the pool area. A simple passageway that led to the outdoor marbled deck.
The 1800 square foot condos were massive, and impeccably detailed with white carpeting in the bedrooms, oak floors in the living areas, and white and tan marble floors in the kitchen. Each unit also had two bathrooms with a built in jacuzzi.
When Marget told me the price of $279,800.00 for the unit I was shocked. Yes, it was quite high for a condo and it would carry a rather large mortgage even with the six figures I was planning to put down.
"There are association fees as well. About $500.00 a month, and the taxes are the highest in the entire region." she warned.
She was right. So was Phil. The taxes, alone, came to just over $1,100.00 a month. With the mortgage, taxes and association fees this exclusive condo was far more expensive than I had imagined. Yet, they were still only half of what the average houses were a quarter of a mile away.
"What about the people here?" I asked.
"What are they like?" I probed.
