‘Twas the summer of 2013 in New Albany, Ohio, and Pharrell’s Blurred Lines was nauseating at this point. I was sleeping on my friends’ couch but they were leaving in 2 weeks and I still had no place to stay. I had just started my first job out of college at JIS but I didn’t have money to spend on rent. Not in that affluent suburb. My salary was best spent on Nikes and dates at Piada.
One evening after work, I got a call from Mike who asked me to meet him in the hospital parking lot. I cleared my desk, turned off Minesweeper on my work laptop, and rushed downstairs to meet Mike. As I stood in the middle of the parking lot, I couldn’t see Mike. Then it occurred to me that I didn’t know what Mike looked like and therefore, didn’t know who I was looking for. I called Mike and he said that he was driving a blue car and would pull out of his parking spot immediately.
The second I saw Mike’s car, my life in New Albany changed. It turned out that “blue car” was a euphemism for a blue Porsche. I walked up to the car, preserving my shock and awe for later. I dared not touch the door handle until I was sure. Mike rolled down the window slowly like a Top Gun Tom Cruise and yes, he had shades on. He told me to hop in and I obliged in a heartbeat.
Sportscars are deceptively large on the inside. I enjoyed more legroom in that diminutive Porsche than in any Toyota Landcruiser I have sat in. Once seated, Mike sped down the freeway like he had forgotten the chicken in the freezer. He assured me it was a short drive and it was. Or maybe we were in a boom tube. I am still not sure.
About 6 minutes later, he turned right and pulled up to a massive short white gate. The kind of gate meant to keep out cattle, not black men. I was comforted by that. Mike punched in a code on the machine to the left of the gate and the gate flung open. As we drove into the neighborhood, my heart was still absent from its usual chambers. Plush green stretches graced by massive mansions. I chose not to interrupt this dream with questions about my bearings. Mike pointed to the right of the narrow road to show me his house, but then we took a left. Left we went, and up a narrow road paved with beautiful tall trees. It was as though the trees were narrating a suspenseful tale as they revealed inches of the road ahead conservatively with each mile we crept forward. Think—the internet in the ’90s.
A few minutes later, the trees became more forthcoming and revealed grand red brick architecture. Mike pulled into a large driveway in front of what I can only describe as a castle and parked. Mike looked at me and said: “I hope this is big enough for you…”
And that kids, is how I lived alone in a 15,000-square-foot mansion in New Albany, Ohio.
Pictorial evidence of me at the mansion
To be continued…
Have a good week ✌🏾
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