What do mistakes say about our culture?

A few weeks ago, in a very crowded Starbucks, I asked a guy if I could sit at his table while I waited for my drink.  Not something I usually do, but I'm a grown up and I sincerely doubt this stranger will try to stab me while he was waiting for his coffee.  We started talking, because, well, I like to talk about myself and it's rude not to return said questions.  So we discussed our jobs – a safe topic.  I am a writer and he happens to need a writer.  We exchanged cards.  
A few days ago, he called me and wanted to meet for lunch.  We arranged to meet at a restaurant I have never been to that's near my office.  I was a few minutes late because I forgot how hard it is to find parking downtown.  
I walk in and tell the girl behind the desk that I am meeting someone.  She points at a girl.  Nope, it's a guy.  She points at a white guy.  Nope.  She points at two white guys.  Nope, just one guy.  She decides he must not be here yet.  She seats me over to the left, with my back to the door.  So I have to turn around constantly looking for him.  Two white guys are seated at the table beside mine.  I am beginning to get frustrated.  This guy called me.  I really don't have time for this.  My waitress brings me water and water for my yet-to-arrive guest.  She checks on me again.  Still not here? Nope.  I call my friend and ask him what I should do.  He of course, being logical says I should call the guy.  "Why?  To say, 'hey, I have been waiting for 15 minutes and you're late and I just wanted to point out that you are really late!'?"  He tells me that there is probably a good reason.  One of the two recently seated guys is looking at me.  Probably because I am talking on my blue tooth and I always get strange looks when I do.  Like I'm the only person who has one.  Or I'm crazy and talking to myself.
So, I break down and call the number on the card.  A woman answers.  I ask for my dining partner.  She says he's out.  I tell her that I was supposed to meet him for lunch.  She says he is there.  I tell her, 'no, I'm here.  I don't see him.'  She calls him on the other line.  about thirty seconds later, a guy on the other side of the partition stands up, less than five feet from me.  I hang up my phone.  The guy watching this unfold begins to laugh.  
I gather my things and walk around the partial wall to where my lunch guest has been sitting for 30 minutes.
I sit down and he says, "I guess the waitress was looking for a black girl."  
"Yes," I say, "and my waitress was probably looking for a white guy." I shake my head.
Interesting, the deep seeded mental blocks that people encounter on a daily basis.  Racism in the subtlest form.  So, my question to you, was as you read this, what color did you imagine this guy to be?

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