*KNOCK KNOCK*
I opened the door. A middle aged, medium sized, black man with a mustache stared at me like I had a contagious disease. To break the awkwardness, I did something unusual. I initiated the conversation- by saying, "Hello."
"Oh, um, hello. My, well, church is running classes for people in crisis. Did you hear about the thing that just happened in Towson? The guy who killed his family..." he said, stumbling over his words.
"Yeah." I cocked open the screen door to try to set him at ease.
"Um, ok. Well, my church has classes for people in crisis, teaching them how to deal with things so they don't get to that point. You are welcome to come," he said, stressing the 'you' as if my invitation might be in question. I politely answer, "Ok," took his flier, and thanked him.
I closed the door and turned around, thinking to myself, 'What the hell was wrong with that guy.' I looked down at his flier and saw the problem. I had caught a glimpse of my shirt, which dons a big Star of David with a ferocious panther placed inside, the Jewish boxer Yuri Foreman's logo. I forgot I was wearing it.
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