“No, she’s black,” said the colleague, who also happened to be a friend and found it hilarious that someone else had mistaken me for white.

Of course, when she relayed this exchange to me, I was so flattered that the other co-worker considered me pretty.

“Awe, that is so sweet!” I explained.

“Yes, but I was amused that she thought you were white,” said my friend, and we both giggled.

“What else is new?” I said.

And I wondered aloud how many other co-workers were under the same assumption. I’d been working there for a few years and assumed everyone had either figured out my race or been clued in by someone else.

“Perhaps people think I’m Puerto Rican?” I asked.

“Or Grecian (a reference to another story of my mistaken identity as a teenager)!” said my friend.

“Or Russian?” I said.

“Or Filipino? she said.

We went on and on to the point where we developed the church giggles in my cube.