This is what happens: I walk up to a table with a large party in it- say six or seven people- and do my typical greet.While tossing out coasters I say something like, "Hi everyone, how are you tonight?" (Which usually gets a response like "Good how are you?")This table doesn't respond. They look at each other as though something incredibly awkward just happened. Then, one person sitting in the back corner of the group speaks up. With an accent so thick I can barely make out what they're saying, they order for everyone at the table. It's always Coke or Iced Tea.
Then one person at the table invariably isn't ready to order. The Translator asks in spanish and the stray responds. They have a drawn out conversation about it in spanish- I stand and wait. Finally The Translator says "Coke."
They order food incorrectly."the chicken spaghetti with the alfredo sauce- can I have with shrimp?" They point at things that aren't food in the menu and say "This." When you ask "Salad or soup?" they say "Yes." Everytime I check on them they need six more things, making it nearly impossible to deal with my other tables. They ask for things I'm not technically supposed to bring, ie: three bags of breadsticks to go,a brand new salad-to go, etc. The check is presented, it is over $150. They pay with two $100 bills and ask for change- they leave me a $3 tip. Always.
Sometimes, if I see a large Mexican family come into the restaurant, I think "Oh, God, please don't let that be my table." Then I hate myself! Because it's not just that they take up my time and then don't pay me for it, there is an inner rage that I can't describe without sounding like a klansman. For example: when I was growing up, there was a strip mall that I loved going to. It had a Swensen's (which was the MOST AWESOME ice cream shop), a toy store and an Orange Julius. Across the street was a 31 Flavors. It was kid heaven. Now, the Swensen's is a cheesy buffet restaurant where they serve food poisoning; the toy store is a discount clothing store where they sell quinsinera dresses for $30, tiaras, candles with pictures of the Virgin Mary and bad designer knock offs; the 31 Flavors is a BoSa Doughnuts. What I'm hedging around saying here is that the strip mall has been taken over by Mexican business. The worst part of that is it's a terrible neighborhood now. The crime rate is through the roof. I'll drive past this strip mall now and think "Look what you did here. How could you do this?"
And don't worry. I hate me too. I'm seriously disappointed in me too. I mean it's not as though my values are dead. I speak up for equal rights. I know that basically every American is the descendant of an immigrant. My shtetl iz Amerike. Amekhaye khlebn, etc, etc. That's exactly what makes this so disturbing. I mean how can I, liberal me, be thinking things like this? Look at me. I mean look at ME. As if my father didn't have the exact same hate directed at him? Oh and uh- holocaust anyone? My cousin gave me a good tongue lashing all about "white flight" and how these people are fleeing tyranny and trying to make a life for themselves. It's true. I know that. I get myself all geared up to be this warm, accepting person and then it happens again. The same thing: a table full of Mexicans runs up their check and then tips less than 5%. Back to square one. And I hate it! It's not like "Oh- f*cking Mexicans.I should have known." It's more like "Oh,come on, don't make me hate you!!"
So I guess my question is: What makes you a racist? Is it this? Because this feels more like a bad relationship. It's like I'm this downtrodden girlfriend that lives with this guy who I truly believe in. I think he's smart and fun and charismatic, and has so much potential. But he continually lets me down. He comes home late, he drinks too much, he says inappropriate things. He keeps getting fired from his jobs. I never lose faith though- and I never leave. Eventually though I start to expect it, like- I'll be making dinner for myself and I think "There's no reason to make dinner for two, it's not like he's coming home." or someone asks us to go on vacation with them and I think "I shouldn't make any plans. He's due to lose his job any minute now." That's what this feels like. I can't resign myself to be a racist. That's not who I am- right? Right?
1 comment:
It seems to be my role on this blog to criticize everything you write. Oh well. A couple of points:
1) Every race has trash. In my experience, white trash is the worst. Mexican and black trash might have some pretty bad behaviors, but they aren't usually racists--at least not more than the usual level. White trash have the bad behavior AND they hate other races.
2) Those people you described aren't trash. They are foreigners. Could be any foreigner group, and they would do the same. You should know that the US is about the only country that allows restaurants to pay slave wages to the servers, with the hope that they will make it up in tips. Other countries PAY their servers. In those countries, it is the norm to "round up" the bill. In Spain, if the bill is €19, I give €20, and they don't hate me. That's how it is. those people in your restaurant don't know the rules, and don't have the language. You can be annoyed, but that is how it is.
3) About the language. You complain about them talking for a long time, and then giving the translation "Coke." Next time you are in a restaurant, pay attention to the conversation when you order. Imagine if there was only one person who could communicate with the server:
"What do you all want?"
"What do they have"
"I don't know. Probably the usual."
"I guess I could have a Coke. NO! Make it a Diet Coke."
"Diet Coke is poison."
"OK. Regular Coke."
Now your translation: "Coke."
See?
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