'...Disaster strikes again. Jackson, an Afro-Caribbean from London challenged me to a game of squash. I declined, saying that I was taking my fiancée to the cinema that night. I was immediately called into the office, and was accused of being a 'mad-dog' white supremacist who hated blacks. It did not occur to them that my refusal was a graceful gesture intended to save Jackson and myself from aching legs, nagging injuries, rancid jockstraps, and a spurned girlfriend who would never forget it. They did not agree, so after a long slog at the office I decided to give Jackson a game of squash. After a long slog on the squash courts, I beat him 3-2. The next day however, I was stopped from going to work by a group of 5 black heavies who were blocking my way into the office. They called themselv