Strength of Motivation

"I tell you what...why don't you get your monkey ass back to Africa?"

"Well...I hear a version of that story all the time and it's old. You need to come up with something new and more intelligent to say if you are trying to discriminate against me. I am used to hearing 'Go back to Africa' all the time, so it doesn't mean a thing to me now," I said politely, walking up to his chin. "Either you let me in, or let Mrs.

Amanda know that I am here, shoot me, or call the police. Until then I am not going back to Africa."

I took a step back, getting ready for any confrontations, but I wasn't about to provoke any physical fights. At that moment Amanda arrived behind me, classically dressed carrying a briefcase and a book with her eyes hid behind sunglasses.

"It's okay, John. You can let him in. He is joining the orchestra."

"Okay, Madame." He stepped aside and let us in as he stared at me.

A song of a violin and piano came from inside.

I rehearsed with Amanda. She was on the piano, and I was playing violin. We hit the final notes. Amanda kept quiet a brief moment, thinking, and then heaved a sigh.

"You play very well, and I am overwhelmed. Now I guess you and I can join the orchestra."

My eyes were sparkling. I pinched myself to make sure that I wasn't having a hallucination. I wanted to scream, but I excitedly jumped in the air and embraced Amanda.