I have dozens of crazy stories to share from my trip to the Caribbean last month, but one of the craziest took place at a souvenir shop in downtown Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas.
While Nathan and I were looking for a magnet to take back home, we overhead an older white customer in a very loud and long conversation with an Indian store employee. I thought to myself, that poor sales clerk probably wants to do his job but the old guy won't stop talking. Boy, was I wrong.
When we finally picked out our magnets, we took them to the counter to purchase, and the old guy finally stopped talking and walked away. Then the sales clerk asked us if we were basketball players. No, we told him. "Well you look like ball players," he said. But we're not, we said again.
We got the basketball player look a few times on the trip. We were two black guys traveling together in the Caribbean, so we had to be basketball players or brothers. Never mind the fact that we don't look alike and we're not tall enough to play pro ball. In the eyes of many, we were athletes.
| Continue Keith Boykin's "Did You Hear The One About"
Also: gujari's "An Indian in Walnut Creek"
posted in weblogs on January 9, 2004 7:26 AM | t (0)
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