As one of the few black journalists who had "made it" Carl Rowan had moved into a nice house in an upscale Washington neighborhood.
He was mowing his lawn one fine day, when a big fancy car pulled up in front of him. An elegant white lady rolled down the car window, beckoned him over. Carl went down to see what the lady wanted, whereupon she asked him what price he charged for mowing the lawn.
Instead of blowing up at her for assuming that a black man could never afford such a house, Carl merely smiled, and said, "Madam, I get to sleep with the lady of the house."