Inside was stairs. I just walked in and up the stairs. Finally at the top I said, 'is anybody here?' and a guy yelled at me to come on in."The guy was...in a big space that had been set up like a studio. There were cameras and video recorders, and lights. There was a big bed in the center that everything was pointed at. When I saw the guy I almost ran away. A big black guy. Big, bigger than you."I don't know any black people. I mean, African-Americans. There certainly weren't any where I grew. Maybe that was what distracted me, or maybe I just took my eyes off theroad while searching for a soft rock station in harmony with my mood.Whatever the reason, before I knew it I was midway through a busyintersection with a red light against me and horns blaring from alldirections. Survival instinct kicked in, and I saw a narrow openingahead of me, floored the accelerator, and shot through the gap into theclear. The entry to the freeway was just ahead, and my knees wereshaking as I eased my. More

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