>> 
>> A True Story...
>> 
>> 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 she 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 big... very big... 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,
>> ashamed.  She hoped they didn't read her mind,  But knew they  surely
>> did; her hesitation about joining them on the elevator was all too
>> obvious.  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 then 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: Do
>> what  they tell you. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw
>> out her  arms and collapsed on the elevator carpet. 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.
>> She lifted her head and looked up a the two men. They reached down to
>> help
>> her up. Confused, she struggled to her feet. "When I told my man 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. She thought: My God, what a spectacle I've made of
>> myself.  She was too 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 3 of them gathered up the strewn
>> quarters and refilled her bucket. When the elevator arrived at her
>> floor  they 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 while 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
>> 
>> 
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