F*ck You and Other Terms of Endearment

Driving While Black… on a Bicycle I manage a small and frankly, rather low-end motel (someday when we know each other better, I will tell the story why) in a mid-sized midwestern community. That is only important for context and it in part to explain Joe, and his existence in my life. Joe is my favorite resident; he has been here for three years, is helpful, funny and in general a great guy. Now. what follows is the story Joe told me when he came in to pay his rent Saturday. I should mention Joe is a 60-year-old black man, our mid-sized, Mid-Western community is not (black that is). That is to say Joe is not the only person of color in this community but if you held a meeting of the "We are the Colored Folk in Town Association" it could be held in a phone booth. (That is Joe's description of the racial makeup of our community by the way)   This past Wednesday Joe left for work at 5:30 AM, as he has done every weekday and most Saturdays for the past three years on his bicy...