Ten years ago I got a job at a factory in Camden, NJ.
One the first day, I walked about a block to a deli to get some lunch.
The owner behind the counter flat out looks me in the eye and says “We don’t serve white people here.”
Ate my lunch in the factory cafeteria ever since.
Camden makes Philly look decent...
Name of said deli?
Somewhat similar, on a nickel-dime scale. In 1960s Southern California, a buddy of mine, a swarthy Italian, and myself (Whitey) went fishing. On the way back we stopped at a store on an Indian reservation.
Buddy and I get a Coke each. We go to the register and the Indian clerks tells him "25c". My turn, "$1.00" and looks me right in the eye. I look back and throw a buck on the counter, knowing that tomorrow morning I'll still be a white guy with a good job, while he will still be an Indian shuffling quarters in some back country store.