BUT ENJOY...........................
On a recent weekend in Atlantic City, a woman won a bucketful of
>quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner
>with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash
>the quarters in her room. "I'll be right back and we'll go to eat," she
>told her husband and carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator.
>
>As she was about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already
>aboard. Both were black. One of them was tall...very tall...an
>intimidating figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two
>are going to rob me. Her next thought was: Don't be a bigot, they look
>like perfectly nice gentlemen. But racial stereotypes are powerful, and
>fear immobilized her. She stood and stared at the two men. She felt
>anxious, flustered and ashamed. She hoped they didn't read her mind but
>Gosh, they had to know what she was thinking!!!
>
>Her hesitation about joining them in the elevator was all too obvious
>now. Her face was flushed. She couldn't just stand there, so with a
>mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and
>followed with the other foot and was on the elevator. Avoiding eye
>contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they
>closed.
>
>A second passed, and the another second, and then another. Her fear
>increased! The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her. My God, she
>thought, I'm trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted.
>
>Perspiration poured from every pore. Then one of the men said, "Hit the
>floor." Instinct told her to do what they told her. The bucket of
>quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the
>elevator floor. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and
>spare me, she prayed. More seconds passed.
>
>She heard one of the men say politely, "Ma'am, if you'll just tell us
>what floor you're going to, we 'll push the button." The one who said
>it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily
>to hold in a belly laugh. The woman lifted her head and looked up at the
>two men. They reached down to help her up. Confused, she struggled to
>her feet. "When I told my friend here to hit the floor," said the
>average sized one, "I meant that he should hit the elevator button for
>our floor. I didn't mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am." He spoke
>genially. He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not
>laughing.
>
>The woman thought: My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself. She
>was humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words
>failed her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable gentlemen
>for behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn't know what
>to say. The three of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled
>her bucket.
>
>When the elevator arrived at her floor they then insisted on walking
>her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were
>afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her
>a good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring
>with laughter as they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed
>herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner
>with her husband.
>
>The next morning flowers were delivered to her room - a dozen roses.
>Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one hundred dollar bill. The card
>said: "Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years."
>
>It was signed;
>Eddie Murphy
>Michael Jordan
On a recent weekend in Atlantic City, a woman won a bucketful of
>quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner
>with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash
>the quarters in her room. "I'll be right back and we'll go to eat," she
>told her husband and carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator.
>
>As she was about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already
>aboard. Both were black. One of them was tall...very tall...an
>intimidating figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two
>are going to rob me. Her next thought was: Don't be a bigot, they look
>like perfectly nice gentlemen. But racial stereotypes are powerful, and
>fear immobilized her. She stood and stared at the two men. She felt
>anxious, flustered and ashamed. She hoped they didn't read her mind but
>Gosh, they had to know what she was thinking!!!
>
>Her hesitation about joining them in the elevator was all too obvious
>now. Her face was flushed. She couldn't just stand there, so with a
>mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and
>followed with the other foot and was on the elevator. Avoiding eye
>contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they
>closed.
>
>A second passed, and the another second, and then another. Her fear
>increased! The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her. My God, she
>thought, I'm trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted.
>
>Perspiration poured from every pore. Then one of the men said, "Hit the
>floor." Instinct told her to do what they told her. The bucket of
>quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the
>elevator floor. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and
>spare me, she prayed. More seconds passed.
>
>She heard one of the men say politely, "Ma'am, if you'll just tell us
>what floor you're going to, we 'll push the button." The one who said
>it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily
>to hold in a belly laugh. The woman lifted her head and looked up at the
>two men. They reached down to help her up. Confused, she struggled to
>her feet. "When I told my friend here to hit the floor," said the
>average sized one, "I meant that he should hit the elevator button for
>our floor. I didn't mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am." He spoke
>genially. He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not
>laughing.
>
>The woman thought: My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself. She
>was humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words
>failed her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable gentlemen
>for behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn't know what
>to say. The three of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled
>her bucket.
>
>When the elevator arrived at her floor they then insisted on walking
>her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were
>afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her
>a good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring
>with laughter as they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed
>herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner
>with her husband.
>
>The next morning flowers were delivered to her room - a dozen roses.
>Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one hundred dollar bill. The card
>said: "Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years."
>
>It was signed;
>Eddie Murphy
>Michael Jordan