Ok, this is a new one. I rolled to the Florida coast over New Year's weekend. Was treated like a king by my boy, Steve and his girl, Michelle. Real cool peeps.
My flight out of Houston was delayed on the runway because of a storm. They started the movie and gave us peanuts, but they wouldn't serve booze, which pissed me off. While I was stretching my legs near the back of the plane, a guy walks towards me and is like, "Can I get a Cranberry Juice?" I'm like, "I'm not a flight attendant." He goes, "Oh, well, you look like one. You look like you're in charge. Ha ha."
Ha ha my ass. For one thing, I wasn't "dressed" like a flight attendant. I was wearing a red silk shirt, black slacks and black shoes. Work attire. The flight attendants were all wearing uniforms, dark uniforms at that. Most of them were wearing blazers with patches on them. How the hell did I possibly look like a flight attendant?
The lead flight attendant was a black male, but he was heavier and dark-skinned. We didn't look anything alike. The funny thing is, I'm not shocked that a white person mistook me for another black man, even though we didn't look anything alike. It's happened a million times before. I'm just surprised that it was on an airplane. That's a new one.