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 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 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