Our hostess let go of me and patted her stud on the back. "You shouldn't be afraid of dogs, Merrilee," she chided. "It's like being superstitious... M...rrilee licked her fat lips, propping herself up on a slim elbow. "... And eating barbecued ribs... shuffling the feet... saying 'Yow-sah!' to every white man you meet," she said, somewhat irritated. "Don't you tell me how to act, Jane Hawser. Don't you dare tell me being afraid of that monster dog of yours makes me a stupid nigger!" I didn't say. The more I thought about it though, the more I wanted to know how she would react, so the next day on my way home from work I stopped by the bar and had a long talk with the bartender. For a hundred bucks and the promise of a hundred more he agreed to put Margie and her friends at a table up front and to set up my video camera so that it would tape them.It was three in the morning when the garage door opened up and brought me out of a sound sleep and I watched through half shut eyes and. More

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