Have We Become Over Sensitive About Colour?

I was at a seminar after work the other night and was introduced to a young lady called Lorna who works for an accountancy practice in Bournemouth. Our conversation went like this:

"Hi, I'm Lorna. I work for .............."
"Really, that's a coincidence."
"That sounds ominous."
"Not really. Your landlord is one of my clients."
"Oh right."
"And I know somebody who works there, but this is really embarrassing I've forgotten his name."

There's a pause whilst I try to remember.

"Sorry. He's Asian."

She looks at me as if the word Asian has somehow translated in her brain as 'I want to throw you to the floor and make passionate love on top of a pile of tax tables'.

She shakes her head, "No. Mind you I've only been there for five years. Perhaps he left before I joined."
"Really? Well he was still there last week, wrote to me about a client."
"Oh you must mean Mohammed. He's one of the two partners."
"That's it. Yes Mo. I've known him for twenty odd years. Did some sub-contract work when he first came to this country."

Now Mo is fifty something, the colour of a malteser, speaks with an accent that clearly identifies his homeland as somewhere east of Suez. Didn't Lorna like me calling him 'Asian' when that's clearly what he is?

When I told this story to firstly Janis, then Angela and Caroline (co-workers) their instant reaction was to burst out laughing at the surrealism of the situation. Caroline had a similar experience at a party she went to, the room was full of white people with the exception of one guy who was black. Her hostess was trying to describe the black guy without actually mentioning his colour, she described his shoes, his trousers and what he was drinking before giving the final clue.

Now I know that we judge friends by their friendship not their sex or colour but in a third party situation such as those Caroline and myself found ourselves in surely honesty would save a lot of time?