When I was a carhop in high school, one hot summer day an African-American family pulled in – the first I’d ever seen at this root beer stand. I took their order, and when it was ready, I went up to the pickup window expecting to see frosty mugs of root beer like all the other customers got. Instead, I saw paper cups with root beer in them.

I called to the boss, “Why does this family have to drink out of paper cups instead of frosty mugs?”

The boss said, “Our white customers would not want to drink after black people, and next time write it on your ticket that they are black.”