A TRUE STORY IN ATLANTIC CITY N.J.(WAS IN THE PAPER)

         On a recent weekend in Atlantic City, a woman won a bucketful of quarters at  a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner  with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash the       quarters in her  room. "I'll be right back and we'll go to eat," she told her          husband and she  carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator. As she was     about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already aboard. Both were black. One of   them was big...very big... an intimidating figure. The woman froze. Her  first thought was: These two are going to rob me. Her next thought was:   Don't be a bigot, they look like perfectly nice gentlemen. But racial   stereotypes are powerful, and fear immobilized her. She stood and stared    at the two men. She felt anxious, flustered, ashamed. She  hoped they didn't  read her mind, but knew they surely did; her hesitation about joining them  on the elevator was all too obvious. Her face was flushed. She couldn't   just stand there, so with a mighty effort of will she picked up one foot  and stepped forward and followed with the other foot and was on the elevator.   Avoiding eye contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors   as they closed. A second passed, and then another second, and then another.  Her fear increased! The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her. My God,  she thought, I'm trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted.  Perspiration poured from every pore. Then....one of the men said, "Hit the  floor."  Instinct told her: Do what they tell you. The bucket of quarters flew  upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the elevator carpet. A  shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and spare  me, she   prayed. More seconds passed. She heard one of the men say politely,   "Ma'am, if you'll just tell us what floor you're going to, we'll push the   button." The one who said it had a little trouble getting the words out. He   was trying mightily to hold in a belly laugh. She lifted her head and looked  up at the two men. They reached down to help her up. Confused she   struggled to her feet. "When I told my man here to hit the floor," said the average sized one, "I meant that he should hit the elevator button for our floor. I didn't mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am." He spoke genially.   He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not   laughing. She  thought: My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself. She was  too  humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words failed  her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable  gentlemen for  behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn't know  what to  say. The 3 of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket.

      When the elevator arrived at her floor they insisted on  walking her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were afraid she  might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her a good  evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring with  laughter while they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed herself  off.  She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner with her   husband. The next morning flowers were delivered to her room -    a dozen  roses. Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one hundred dollar  bill. The   card said: "Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years." It was  signed,
Eddie Murphy and Michael Jordan