Indian women's life no crystal stair . . . Riding the Oregon Trail in 1846, historian Francis Parkman was offered a woman for his horse. It was in the camp of a Plains Indian, the Dakota. The man offering the woman was her father, who coveted Parkman's mount. Parkman declined. The man already had 30 horses and was the richest man in the village. He was 300 pounds of avarice, but cheerful about it. He rode away chuckling. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
In Chicago, the Beverly neighborhood abuts a Black neighborhood called Washington Heights. Although the Jewel on the border is a quarter-mile away, I drove to one in a predominately white suburb. Why? Nothing to do with the clientele per se, but the service in the local one was abominable. Understaffing and long lines. Poor selection. It was clear that management lacked respect for its customers.
In Chicago, the Beverly neighborhood abuts a Black neighborhood called Washington Heights. Although the Jewel on the border is a quarter-mile away, I drove to one in a predominately white suburb. Why? Nothing to do with the clientele per se, but the service in the local one was abominable. Understaffing and long lines. Poor selection. It was clear that management lacked respect for its customers.