Within the past two weeks, on a visit to the city of my birth, London, I have committed: 1) The crime of being Black while studying the interior of a church (I did church architecture as part of pre 6th form O Level art &, though an atheist from the age of six, retain an interest in the buildings). The only other civilian in the church, a worshiper, had clearly felt threatened and had called the Priest who enquired as to why I was in the building. 2) The crime of being Black while hailing a taxi for hire (taxi sign on) in broad daylight. The first driver saw me well enough to deliver a comedic wave before driving on; the second merely looked me in the eyes, dismissed me and drove on. & 3) The crime of not being what I apparently, in this instance, had a duty to be: After dinner in my hotel, I've just been racially profiled by another guest (vanilla) who assumed I was a member of staff as we all waited for the lift/elevator on our way to our rooms. The last of these instances made me laugh. The first two were annoying. As I told a young, white and helpful policeman many years ago, "You get used to it". He replied, "You shouldn't have to!".