“Sure,” I said. “But not here. In Alabama.”
He leaned his head back and looked around. Blew another sigh up at the ceiling. A somber man.
“He’s the guy on the other end of this number,” he said.
“Come here, white boy,” the big guy repeated. Quietly.
“So you got enough black customers to make a living?” I asked him.
“OK,” he said. “No hard feelings, right?”