The United Nations of Downriver.
As I (a white female) was leaving my apartment building today, two other residents (a black female and an Arab-American man) were coming in. It just struck me as kind of cool.
Then, at the gas station, my two favorite clerks (both Middle Eastern) were working. I shall call them Funny One and Quiet One. At this Mobile, they have the card reader on the counter so that those using credit and debit cards can run them through themselves. As I never use cash anymore (not even at fast food places, since they geniously began accepting debit cards as well), I use this card reader almost every day. And every day, I need to run my card through at least half a dozen times before it "takes"--probably because I like to run my card through with a flourish. (Last night, Funny One told me to "try it again, a little less enthusiastically this time.")
Tonight, I was extra "special" and was on about my tenth attempt before it went through. ("You're in here EVERY DAY," said Funny One. "How have you not mastered this machine yet?") But the best part came when Quiet One asked me if I wanted my receipt.
"That's not a receipt," Funny One remarked. "For her, it's a Certificate of Achievement."
I left the gas station laughing hysterically.