Strong Like Bull

We have a new doorman for my apartment building. He's Russian and seems nice. We've met twice.  The second time, after asking my name, he followed up by asking if I'm Indian because he has a friend with my name who is. No, but I heard that a lot when I traveled there.

The next question could be seen coming from a mile off: What's your background?

I had just run a half marathon, so I was in a good mood but a little tired. All I wanted to do was go to my apartment, ice and eat. Still, this is my doorman. I'm going to have to see him everyday for the rest of the time I live here. I decided to start with the less obvious and work up to what he wanted to know...

Me: I'm Irish and English...

Him: Wow, I never would have guessed!

Me: And French Canadian, Native American and African American.

Him: You must be very strong.

What?! Strong? That's a new one. I think I must have given him a blank stare, but that could have been the race-induced glazed look.

Him: All that mixing means you are the best of everything. People who are just one thing, they get, how do you say, thinned down. Not strong. You are probably very healthy.

Well, that explains why, despite being exposed to a sick boyfriend and mom in the last week, I'm still well. Mixed chicks; we're strong like bull!

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