Different Worlds

My friend Daniel (not his real name) was driving in from out of town and we had arranged to meet each other at a local pub. I entered the restaurant a few moments before he did, and as soon as he arrived he scurried to the men’s restroom at the end of a narrow hallway. Just as he reached for the door handle a man bolted out of the restroom and the edge of the door intersected with Daniel’s forehead. You could hear the crack from fifty feet away.

The man was apologetic, but short of driving Daniel to the emergency room there wasn’t much that he could do. Daniel suggested that he was alright and the man repeated his apology before walking out to the parking lot. Daniel took the few short steps to our table and sat down in the midst of a vacant bar. It was about 4:00 in the afternoon - a slow time for restaurants catering to a lunch and dinner crowd. The place was hollow.

The knot on Daniel’s forehead grew instantly larger and a cut that divided his eyebrow began to bleed. He was woozy and disoriented. We needed a towel and some ice, but there was no help available. I told him that I’d look for a waiter or a bartender, but after searching the place I didn’t find a soul… no one.

Taking the initiative I went behind the bar, found a white cotton towel, and I loaded it with ice. Returning to the table I handed Daniel the cold lump of terrycloth and he applied it to his face. As relief took effect he glanced up at me with his one un-swollen eye. In a cheerless voice he admitted that I had done something that he could never do... which was slip behind a counter without permission.

“No matter the circumstance,” he said, “that would be reckless… at least for someone like me.”

That comment didn’t really fit Daniel. He’s a former councilman of a sizeable city, and he’s the newly elected chair of a statewide political caucus. He’s an operator, plugged in politically, and the governor takes his calls.

Daniel didn’t make his point to say that I have chutzpah, or admit that he doesn’t. And he wasn’t saying that what I did was wrong or presumptuous. Daniel's point was a simple admission that the two of us live in different worlds, and the rules for each of us are not the same.

Did I tell you that my friend is black?