Geneva: Grütli

Geneva Shelley and I go to the Grutli Cinema every couple of weeks. We are very much enamored with the place and with the programme. Eventually patterns are discerned. Once we begin to look for them they become increasingly obvious until we wonder how we could have been so oblivious at the start. We end up totally mortified and feeling complicit through ignorance and naivity. We feel violated although we are not the victims.

The man on the phone is flirting with Shelley until he discovers that she is black. He is dumbfounded and perhaps even angry, as though she were deliberately deceiving him by using a white-sounding voice.