Often, when I am on my tours for seesomeworld.com, I am the only Black person present other than guards or cashiers at the venue. It is what it is. 

So. I'm at the [redacted] Museum in Miami and there are two guards argue- whispering playfully. It's a heated discussion and they are laughing quietly. I've worked retail. I know the drill. I pay it no mind and keep looking. 

I'm walking out of the exhibit when the guard says, "Miss, excuse me, Miss?" I turn around. He asks if I can come closer. My first thought: Is there a stain on my dress?

I go over, preparing to be mortified.