Then, last week, serendipitously, we met up at an art show in town. Dan was his usual affable self as we exchanged hugs and greetings.“Where is the wife?” I asked.“She is working late,” Dan said. “You know how that goes, right?”Since I am a self-employed person, I fully understood working late hours. I was feeling emboldened by a glass of wine I had just downed, so I asked Dan if he wanted to share a glass of wine with me. To my surprise, he agreed.Dan walked with me to the corner bar. I was more than a little nervous.“So what do you think about the art show?” I asked.“It’s pretty cool,” Dan replied. “It’s interesting that in our small conservative town that someone was able to sneak in a few nudes.”I laughed.“Yeah.” I replied, “We can be quite prudish when it comes to nudity.”“I think it shows character when the human experience is captured in its natural state,” Dan replied.I was thinking, 'Screw the human experience, just woo me.'“You know,” I said, placing my hand casually on. "Can I offer you any refreshment, Steve?" she asked in a soft Southern drawl. "Please, pull up a chair and have a seat," she continued, indicating a comfortable chair next to the couch she and Ed had been occupying.Steve sat where he was told, saying, "A cup of coffee would be nice, if you don't mind. No cream, one sugar."Camille smiled, and said, "It's OK, you can say 'black' if you want to. Neither Ed nor I are foolish about such matters, especially with someone who's obviously no fool himself. If you'd been the type to make a big deal about race, it would be a different matter, but you obviously aren't."Ed hadn't been idle, and when he handed Steve his cup of coffee, Steve thanked him absently. "You know, Camille," he said, "it didn't occur to me until you said it, but you're right. Before it happened, I liked to think of myself as enlightened, but race was something I was always aware of, even while I tried not to let it matter. But now, with what's happened, I don't even think.
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