No, not all black people are related to famous people with the same name
Stop asking me am I related to Sarah Vaughan
I sighed when I heard my doorbell ring. I’d purposely never told Craigslist and Freecycle users which condominium unit I was in because my dog hates the sound of my doorbell. Friends and family know to call. I even have instructions for delivery people to only ring the doorbell one time. I always tell Craigslist and Freecycle users to message me when they’re outside, and I’ll meet them in front of the building. This user said she was on crutches, an older lady and could not pick up the items so she needed assistance.
It never occurred to me to tell her to not ring my doorbell, knowing we’d already agreed for her pickup time to be daylight hours. (Walking to strangers’ cars at night is never going to happen.) Still, she got out of the car and rang every single doorbell of any unit that she saw with the lights on, waiting for any of them to answer so she could say, “I’m here about Craigslist.” I quickly remembered why I spent an entire year telling Craigslist (and Freecycle) users to meet me at a nearby corner.
Still, I was elated to find out that the box of kitchen supplies, comforters, blankets and pillows I was giving away would go to a worthy cause: Ukrainian families. I made a second trip to give her a toaster I was donating, too. She opened her arms to hug me, and out of habit, I immediately opened mine — completely forgetting my adamancy for a six-foot distance around (unvaccinated?) strangers. I stepped back, feeling like I’d done a great deed. Then, the question came.
“So are you related to Sarah Vaughan?” she asked me.
I briefly considered snatching my toaster back, remembering yet another reason why I dodge telling strangers which one is my doorbell.