Twenty
Wes
“So, not to sound like a complete moron, but what exactly is the purpose of a sit-in?” I asked.
I’d been working up the nerve to ask Trixie this question for about five blocks, ever since we left her apartment. I didn’t want her to think I was some strait-laced, rich boy from the city, who had no idea what the event we were going to tonight was for … although that’s exactly what I was.
I’d looked it up briefly when I was waiting on her doorstep, but had only gotten as far as to see a sit-in was a peaceful protest.
“You don’t sound like a moron,” Trixie said kindly, taking my hand in hers as she answered. “The first sit-in was in nineteen sixty by four college students who wanted to protest racial segregation. They walked into Woolworths and, after making purchases in the st
