Last week I was in New York City with a friend of mine, Delilah. Delilah is tall, beautiful, and definitely Black. All week she wore a baseball cap with a head wrap underneath, hiding her grey hair, so she looked much younger than me.

Within five hours, I was confronted four times by African-Americans in their twenties, who were exceedingly polite and gave approval to Delilah, then showed me hostility. I didn’t know why, exactly. The current presidential election might be making people uneasy; P.Diddy was in jail; the mayor, Eric Adams, was arraigned that morning on corruption and bribery charges. Or they thought Delilah and I were a butch lesbian couple. Or I looked old, or perhaps like a Trump voter.

Every time I looked at them, analyzing their behavior, motivation, mental state, possible childhood trauma, and family background. Every time they quickly disappeared. It was disturbing, and I spent the rest of my vacation in East Orange, Hoboken, and Montclair, where we were treated in a more friendly manner.

On the other hand, in Chatham, New Jersey, I was overcharged by $3 on a small item (clearly marked) at a novelty store. Just another greedy small business owner, or was it because of Delilah? I will never know.