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For anyone who didn't see D avid Letterman's take on this:
(And it's 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
>> 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

:1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh :1orglaugh