"I Don't Date Outside My Race."

Ya know how I've gotten into some pretty interesting conversations on my trips in the past? (Recall the "I have a burning love for Jesus" encounter.)

Well, I had a mildly entertaining one earlier today in Savannah.

I was in a souvenir shop at the register, being helped by a rather large but pretty african-american woman. The conversation started because when Hootie and the Blowfish came on the radio behind her, she groaned and rolled her eyes, and I knew instantly we had something in common.

We talked about my iPod and its 16,000 songs, then about how she didn't have one, but thought having one and how wearing earphones all the time was good because it prevented you from having to talk to people who randomly strike up conversations you want no part of, then about a friend of hers who takes her iPod and earbuds with her everywhere so guys won't hit on her, then about how guys never know what to say when they're hitting on a girl because girls make it hard for them, then ultimately to the climax of the conversation: a personal story of one particular time that she was hit on.

She had just told me about a guy she'd known for like three years that finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, when she stopped and said, "Now honey, I don't date outside my race, see?". So she told me how she told this poor bumbling guy, "I don't do vanilla." He apparently was quick enough on his feet to suggest she sample the vanilla before she just outright say "no", but she was not persuaded, and shut him down with an abrupt, "I like mine DARK chocolate, honey.". With that, she let out a really loud cackling laugh, and said "Have a nice day, sweetie."

Why do people tell me such things?

Oh, and then when I went to turn in the rental car, the girl that checked it in said as she handed me the receipt, "Okay baby, you're all set."

Baby?