As we walked through my neighborhood, which was a very nice one, by the way, I noticed that Sophie would get all worked up whenever she spotted a black man on the street. Now New Orleans has a rich black culture and is about 60% black. But every time this girl saw a black man, she’d be like “Oh my God! What are we doing here? We’re going to get raped! This is the ghetto!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I knew a lot of the men she was referring to; some of them were friends of mine, so it irked me to no end that she’d assume that they were out to rape her. Red flag number two! To say nothing of the fact that of all three girls, she was the least likely to attract any man’s attention… a long horse face, tiny little granny spectacles, and her breath! Every time she turned to talk to me — even outside in the open air — that putrid breath would hit me like a wet towel. It was all I could do to keep from throwing up right there on the street. But I digress…