This is why America is a great country

Tuesday night, about 9:30, at the Speedy Market on Dale Street. At the counter is a 20-something African American gentleman, clearly in his cups, attempting to purchase two 20 oz cans of Steel Reserve. Behind him in line is a short, rotund Hispanic guy carrying three 40 oz bottles of Miller Genuine Draft. The black guy's credit card is rejected. Shaking his head, he mumbles something about his "bitch" spending all his money. The counterman pulls the cans of Steel Reserve out of the bag and the would-be purchaser begins to exit the store dejectedly. But then a twist: the Hispanic guy, whose English language skills are clearly limited, manages to convey -- through a combination of hand gestures and grunts -- that he'll pay for the cans of Steel Reserve. The drunk black guy attempts to convey his thanks. "Hola," he says. "Si, senor," he adds. Another guy in line finally prods him to shake his benefactor's hand. He doesn't follow this advice, but does manage at least one suitable response: "Gracias," he says. The Hispanic guy grunts, pulls out a wad of $20 bills, and pays the whole tab.