Message-ID: <12416663.1075846764997.JavaMail.evans@thyme> Date: Tue, 28 Mar 2000 04:07:00 -0800 (PST) From: susan.scott@enron.com To: monique.sanchez@enron.com Subject: Hit the Floor - True Story Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-From: Susan M Scott X-To: Monique Sanchez X-cc: X-bcc: X-Folder: \Susan_Scott_Dec2000_June2001_2\Notes Folders\All documents X-Origin: SCOTT-S X-FileName: sscott5.nsf ---------------------- Forwarded by Susan M Scott/HOU/ECT on 03/28/2000 12:06 PM --------------------------- Enron Capital & Trade Resources Corp. From: Lisa.A.Meador@chase.com 03/28/2000 11:22 AM To: jkbowles@hotmail.com, emily.boon@msdw.com, ashleastu@aol.com, merharp@hotmail.com, sscott5@enron.com, sbuck5151@aol.com, Edrington@Uthscsa.edu, rannlewis@hotmail.com, jesbateman@aol.com, jeannie.l.cooper@us.arthurandersen.com, bwallace@teksystems.com, annshrader@hotmail.com, Abby_Brink@Gensler.com, coinerj@aol.com, Nknewton@yahoo.com, colson@greenhill-co.com, meadorj@bigfoot.com, PerkinsM@sbmail.spring-branch.isd.tenet.edu, jflesher@kprc.com, mark.m.meador@usarthuranderson.com, christy.young@enron.com, sande.melton@chase.com, bmoss@exchange.ml.com, Will_Nolen@enron.net cc: Subject: Hit the Floor - True Story Hit The Floor' A True Story... > > > > 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 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, and 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 goodness, 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 > > Michael Jordan > > >