A Note In Memory Of Horatio And His Black Mamba

After high school I got a job working at the state hospital for the disabled. One of the places that black kids got jobs in our town in east Texas. I had a job in the custodian office, nothing to do with the patients. Mop and bucket work. I worked nights, and the day staff worked in the individual rooms only under supervision or when the patient was out of the room. The worst was the bathrooms, just because they always are.

But my reason for being here is that on nights one of the security guards was a very big black man, Horatio. Horatio showed me his dong. Or as he called it, his black mamba. A fire hose. It took two hands to hold onto his dong, and when he spit it was a regular horse spitting. And when he wanted a bit of ass, well it took a lot to let him work his dong in you. But all in all, for a young man walking out into the word, Horatio was a good man to me and he took care of me at work.

I never loved Horatio, I respected him. And remember him. Horatio passed away a few weeks ago and I wanted to honor him here. What a man, helped young men like me into the world. I didn't have a man in the house growing up, not a man that cared about me. Horatio did care. I showed him I cared for him too.