“Let’s not talk about work,” Chuck said. “Bad day, eh?” “Don’t even mention it. I don’t want to say a word about it. Do you know what Betts…” Ben entered the room, bringing tea for Chuck. “Aren’t you people having any?” Chuck asked. “Black people can’t drink tea,” Ben said. “It affects our livers.” Chuck laughed. “You know something? I’ve never thought of Mahatma as black. If you know what I mean.” Chuck saw Ben’s eyebrows arch. “I mean, I hardly notice his colour!” The eyebrows lifted higher. “What I’m saying is, when I see a black person, I don’t notice his colour. As far as I’m concerned, he’s white, just like me.” “Isn’t that the most amazing thing?” Ben said. “And until you brought it up, I never thought of you as white, either. I thought you were black.” Ben cleared his throat and went off to make dinner. Chuck laughed. “What a guy. Your old man comes across so deadpan, I’d hate to play poker against him. Say, you know what they did to me at work today?
