Minneapolis Adventures

A few Fridays ago, my academic advisor (also my boss), TheAdvisor, asked me to stay a little later at the office. He said he needed to leave, but a student was coming to drop something off and someone needed to let the guy in and then lock up. I readily agreed, since I live within easy walking distance of my place of employment.

Promptly at the appointed hour, a knock sounded at the door. I opened it to find a small, craggy looking man who must have been in his mid-fifties and a card-carrying member of Dirty Old Men of America. He entered the office suite and left a huge stack of papers on TheAdvisor's desk.

Since he had now made his delivery and I wanted to go home, I thought it best to hint that it was time for me to lock up. I smiled and told him, "Have a nice weekend!"

He turned to me, looked me up and down, and then said, "You had to have been raised in the States, because you speak really good English!"

I think that's the most racist thing anyone has ever said to me. After I finally got rid of the creepy little guy, I couldn't stop laughing.