For anyone who didn't see David Letterman the other night, this is a true 
story. A little long, but not dirty (for those who might be offended) and 
totally worth the read: 

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 to eat,"she told 
her husband and 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 tall...very tall...an intimidating 
figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two are going to rob 
me. Her next thought as: 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 Gosh, they had to know what she was 
thinking!!! Her hesitation about joining them in the elevator was all too 
obvious now. 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 the 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 to do what they 
told her. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and 
collapsed on the elevator floor. 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 that 
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. The woman 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 friend 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. 

The woman thought: "My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself". She was 
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 three 
of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket. 

When the elevator arrived at her floor they then 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 as 
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