“Are you prejudiced?”
“Are you prejudiced?” The man on the street asked.
I had just finished the Memorial Day Murph at my local CrossFit gym and was getting a dry shirt out of my car.
“…” I wasn’t sure how to respond.
I suppose I am prejudiced against complete strangers approaching me randomly on the street and asking if I’m prejudiced. Maybe prejudiced isn’t the right word. Cautious is more fitting.
But the man didn’t mean was I prejudiced against strangers on the street. He meant was I prejudiced against people with a different skin color than my own. People like him. Black people.
“No,” I said, “but I’m sorry you feel like you have to ask that.”
Hal introduced himself. We shook hands. And then he told me…