As I talked to the blonde girl I had noticed my boss looking over anxiously in my direction, she had not stopped dancing but her moves had become less...exuberant. When the blonde left, her dancing had become more relaxed, but she kept on glancing at me throughout the night. Samantha had only been my boss for only three months, but we had spent a lot of time working 9-5, 5 days a week with her. She was a scientist and I was her intern. Although I would never admit it to her, in truth I was her. Without asking I spread it over her. She smiledin thanks and faced away once more to the porthole. I sat and began tosearch for a conversational gambit that would not sound like a pickup line.I wanted something that would seize her interest. I rejected one thingafter another. It dawned on me then that I had not had any conversationwith an African-American. It never occurred to me that she was like anyother woman. She seemed exotic to me. Somewhere along these thoughts I must have drowsed. I. More

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