Yesterday, I was waiting for the lift in the Peabody Hotel, Memphis. I should explain that for the last 24 hours I’ve been bustled out of the way more times than I can remember, by very serious and imposing heavies who are in the hotel with Louis Farrakan. The drill is: sweep small person out of way with too much force, then apologise for the inconvenience in manner of slightly scary droid.
When the lift doors opened and there were 15 or so massive security fellas in full Nation of Islam uniform. They looked as if some Japanese train worker had swept them all in, and poked their legs in last. I looked at them. They looked at me. I looked at them. I smiled. One or two of them started to smile. And then we all cracked up laughing. Doors closed.
Nobody can be taken seriously when folded into a lift with 14 other oversized (and impeccably uniformed) bruisers. But I suppose saying the things he says, Louis Farrakan needs good security.
