The axiom "you shouldn't judge a book by its cover" is one that most people should use to guide them in their daily actions. Otherwise, it may lead to perhaps some of the most illuminating and possibly confrontational encounters possible. There are some instances where the opposite may be true.
Today was a nominally busy day, compared to the last two weeks. Customers were in and out and we ere mostly full around lunch time. This black middle-aged couple came in around 12:30 PM, the man with a bushy beard with growing streaks of gray and the woman with a hook-nose like a bird, with keen and quick eyes hidden behind horned-rimmed glasses.
The man walked up to me along side his wife, who was muttering about the catfish on the menu.
"Excuse me, can I get some shrimp egg foo yung?"
"What?" I replied, annoyed that this had to be another one of those days.
"How about some shrimp fried rice?" He continued inquiring.
"I'd actually like the catfish fillets, please." His wife said to me, ignoring his remarks. She rolled her eyes at him, mildly irritated.
I stared at the man and gave him my death stare, cold and unreadable as if boring into the depths of his soul.
"Sir, I feel as if I should be offended. I'm not sure whether to call the ACLU or not..." I remarked tersely, staring.
"What....?" He replied, mildly taken aback. His wife smirked a bit at his discomfort.
I sensed an opening and went in for the kill to catch my prey.
"Sir, I'm kidding." I told him, my expression softening slightly though without any betrayal of a smile or laughter.
"But...you're offended?" Obviously, he didn't get the fact that I was toying with him.
"Oh, he's not. Just stop it and order something." His wife barked, with a slightly amused look on her face.
The husband acquiesced and placed his order, returning back to normal.
Afterwards, the woman came up to me. She and her husband had finished their meals. I was mildly lost in my own world and didn't notice them until she stood at the register. She looked at me, her eyes shining slightly.
"I just want to say that that was delicious. I'm definitely coming back!" I was taken aback by the compliments since no one had every gone up to me like this before.
"Er, well...thank you, madam." I stammered slightly, bemused.
"I was sitting there and talking to those people and after I finished, I felt like I had to go out and start waving my arms at people and getting them to come on in! I mean when I first drove by, I didn't see many cars so I was a bit skeptical. But damn, it was great!"
"Well, that's certainly...admirable, ma'am." I thanked her and motioned my hand a bit to the menus nearby. What the hell was I supposed to say upon receiving such praise? I was impressed, especially considering that my experience with black people has taught me that they tend to be the most critical and most picky of eaters. What happened next was something that I didn't expect.
Her husband took out his hand and held it for a handshake. Confused, I shook his hand firmly.
"That was great. It was delicious."
The couple waved me good-bye and left the restaurant, heading back to work. Needless to say, some things are entirely unexpected.
Showing posts with label good day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good day. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Tales from the Pit - How To Screw With Their Minds
The following incident occurred some weeks ago and ultimately gave me a taste of what it felt like to really screw around with a stranger's mind in a deliciously satisfying and humorous manner. It also will likely solidify my belief that I can be a mendacious bastard.
It was after the lunch rush was settling down. The tables were still mostly filled with customers chatting and talking about their workplace lives or other topics of generic interest to fill the time until their breaks expired. After that, it's back to the office or the factory for work until freedom rings at five o'clock. For some of us, it's not that simple. Especially those of us who work 10+ hour days.
I was counting the number of orders we had taken through the day when the next customer walked in through the door. Once glance at him and I knew that he wasn't a regular customer but a newbie testing the waters of this new BBQ. I stopped my counting and faced the man, inwardly annoyed that I had my break time interrupted.
"Hi, how may I help you?" I said, plastering my best faje customer service smile on my face, resisting the urge to sigh and yawn.
"Well, you guys don't seem to have any ham..." He said, scanning our menu board looking for his desired meat. Mentally, I groaned since I had dealt with many an inquiry regarding ham before.
In reality, we really do not have ham. My parents had to make some very select purchases so as a result, we carried beef, chicken, Italian sausage, and pork ribs as the meats we had available. Ham is rather expensive to purchase and also takes time to properly prep and cook in our pit oven. My personal preference is for barbecued beef or sometimes pulled pork if it's good. Barbecued ham is just something that was sacrificed for the sake of the recession and also my own family's knowledge of barbecuing meats since they learned it in Texas. Besides, why would you eat ham when you can have beef anyway? But I digress.
"No, we don't. We have beef, chicken, sausage, and pork ribs mainly, sir." I replied in a well-rehearsed manner.
"Why no ham?" He inquired, looking extremely confused.
I paused, trying to formulate my reply. Generally, I offer reasons such as "It's the economy" or "Prices were too much" or some other logical, rational explanation for our lack of ham.
But not this time.
I don't know how or why but a thought popped into my head which told me to take a gamble. I figured I was a bit tired or irritated or I just didn't like like dealing with people who want ham. I knew I stopped caring at this point
"Well, sir, it's because we're Jewish."
I stared at him, with an absolute straight face, directly in the eyes. My eyes bored into his, visualizing the back of his skull past all the cerebral tissues and brain matter.
He paused at me and blinked, attempting to formulate words. His mouth moved, yet no words came out.
"Oh. Well, er...um...erm..." He stuttered, clearly at a loss for words.
He was noticeably uncomfortable, squirming at the counter and seeking a way out of this rather unique racial-ethnic situation. I knew he had likely never met Asian Jews before and anything he said would likely offend my being Asian or my being Jewish. I had a feeling the ACLU would not look so kindly upon such an offense, if it actually was possible. So naturally, he was stuck in a coup de grace between a rock and a hard place. However, after 10 seconds of his awkwardness, I felt pity so it was time to drop the charade.
"Sir, I'm not Jewish. I'm kidding with you."
"OH! Okay." He looked immensely relieved and exhaled suddenly. I half-expected him to be furious and suddenly turn into Rambo and begin whaling at me with his fists or guns. "For a minute there, I thought-"
"Yeah, forget about it. I recommend the beef plate if you're starting out here." I suggested, pointed to it on our menu.
"Oh, that sounds good."
So, the moral of the story is that Asian Jews are rare and screwing with customers' minds takes a lot of balls.
It was after the lunch rush was settling down. The tables were still mostly filled with customers chatting and talking about their workplace lives or other topics of generic interest to fill the time until their breaks expired. After that, it's back to the office or the factory for work until freedom rings at five o'clock. For some of us, it's not that simple. Especially those of us who work 10+ hour days.
I was counting the number of orders we had taken through the day when the next customer walked in through the door. Once glance at him and I knew that he wasn't a regular customer but a newbie testing the waters of this new BBQ. I stopped my counting and faced the man, inwardly annoyed that I had my break time interrupted.
"Hi, how may I help you?" I said, plastering my best faje customer service smile on my face, resisting the urge to sigh and yawn.
"Well, you guys don't seem to have any ham..." He said, scanning our menu board looking for his desired meat. Mentally, I groaned since I had dealt with many an inquiry regarding ham before.
In reality, we really do not have ham. My parents had to make some very select purchases so as a result, we carried beef, chicken, Italian sausage, and pork ribs as the meats we had available. Ham is rather expensive to purchase and also takes time to properly prep and cook in our pit oven. My personal preference is for barbecued beef or sometimes pulled pork if it's good. Barbecued ham is just something that was sacrificed for the sake of the recession and also my own family's knowledge of barbecuing meats since they learned it in Texas. Besides, why would you eat ham when you can have beef anyway? But I digress.
"No, we don't. We have beef, chicken, sausage, and pork ribs mainly, sir." I replied in a well-rehearsed manner.
"Why no ham?" He inquired, looking extremely confused.
I paused, trying to formulate my reply. Generally, I offer reasons such as "It's the economy" or "Prices were too much" or some other logical, rational explanation for our lack of ham.
But not this time.
I don't know how or why but a thought popped into my head which told me to take a gamble. I figured I was a bit tired or irritated or I just didn't like like dealing with people who want ham. I knew I stopped caring at this point
"Well, sir, it's because we're Jewish."
I stared at him, with an absolute straight face, directly in the eyes. My eyes bored into his, visualizing the back of his skull past all the cerebral tissues and brain matter.
He paused at me and blinked, attempting to formulate words. His mouth moved, yet no words came out.
"Oh. Well, er...um...erm..." He stuttered, clearly at a loss for words.
He was noticeably uncomfortable, squirming at the counter and seeking a way out of this rather unique racial-ethnic situation. I knew he had likely never met Asian Jews before and anything he said would likely offend my being Asian or my being Jewish. I had a feeling the ACLU would not look so kindly upon such an offense, if it actually was possible. So naturally, he was stuck in a coup de grace between a rock and a hard place. However, after 10 seconds of his awkwardness, I felt pity so it was time to drop the charade.
"Sir, I'm not Jewish. I'm kidding with you."
"OH! Okay." He looked immensely relieved and exhaled suddenly. I half-expected him to be furious and suddenly turn into Rambo and begin whaling at me with his fists or guns. "For a minute there, I thought-"
"Yeah, forget about it. I recommend the beef plate if you're starting out here." I suggested, pointed to it on our menu.
"Oh, that sounds good."
So, the moral of the story is that Asian Jews are rare and screwing with customers' minds takes a lot of balls.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Tales from the Pit - Karl
Karl came by today. He usually comes in on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. A rather stout fellow, with a full beard tinged with gray and glasses perched on his crooked nose, he resembled another innocuous, obese American seeking nourishment and food. However, he always is talkative and very genial.
He's a truck driver. He generally has to drive down three times a week. He also is a Vietnam war veteran, a former presidential candidate for 2008, and very much versed in the ways of the world.
Full of stories, he often talks about anything ranging from the inadequacies of the Republican Party to precious metal speculation. The war stories I found were most interesting, giving me a view into the American psyche during the Vietnam War. What's more entertaining are some of the anecdotal tales he has. Granted, he does talk for many hours on hand but it's generally interesting and fun. After all, life on the road is pretty mundane
Luckily, he also buys our pork rib plate and a large drink. So, cha-ching!
He's a truck driver. He generally has to drive down three times a week. He also is a Vietnam war veteran, a former presidential candidate for 2008, and very much versed in the ways of the world.
Full of stories, he often talks about anything ranging from the inadequacies of the Republican Party to precious metal speculation. The war stories I found were most interesting, giving me a view into the American psyche during the Vietnam War. What's more entertaining are some of the anecdotal tales he has. Granted, he does talk for many hours on hand but it's generally interesting and fun. After all, life on the road is pretty mundane
Luckily, he also buys our pork rib plate and a large drink. So, cha-ching!
Tales from the Pit - And now for something totally different!
Another day and another long, mind-numbing 12 hours of work. Sometimes it ebbs and flows like a river and other times it's as long and silent as solitary rock on the ground. Today was essentially like yesterday and the day before but not quite like tomorrow.
I know it was warm today, almost balmy like summer though the snow and ice reminded me otherwise. There were some notable meetings and interesting stories to be told, though nothing so as to drive me up against the wall.
Gluten Lady came by the drive-thru today. I remember her for the most singular request she made of me some weeks earlier when she first visited. She wore glasses and her golden brown hair was short, falling to her shoulders. She work a long black coat, wrapping herself in a plaid scarf. Her eyes were very alert yet entirely warm though I would have to disagree with the choice of the handbag. It was actually a bitterly cold day then in December.
"I'll take your beef and chicken plate. It doesn't have any wheat or soy, does it?"
"No, ma'am. We don't use either in our meats. It comes with bread though."
"No bread. I can't eat the bread."
"...Really? Are you allergic?"
"Well, no. I get this a lot. The thing is, I'm breastfeeding my son and he's probably gluten-intolerant because my mom and my aunt and my grandmother both couldn't eat bread..."
"Oooh, okay. I got it. No bread. But still...how can you get by in life without eating....CROISSANTS?!"
"OH! I know, right? I'm something of a baker but we always have to buy the gluten-free stuff for the kids. I can handle wheat and gluten well but it's just a precaution in case. I mean it's just the way you make croissants...you can't do it gluten-free."
"Oh, most definitely."
This time, she ordered the same thing as she pulled up in her lime-green Honda Cube. She did say she would come back and she did. So naturally, we're doing something right at least for one woman and her newborn child.
I know it was warm today, almost balmy like summer though the snow and ice reminded me otherwise. There were some notable meetings and interesting stories to be told, though nothing so as to drive me up against the wall.
Gluten Lady came by the drive-thru today. I remember her for the most singular request she made of me some weeks earlier when she first visited. She wore glasses and her golden brown hair was short, falling to her shoulders. She work a long black coat, wrapping herself in a plaid scarf. Her eyes were very alert yet entirely warm though I would have to disagree with the choice of the handbag. It was actually a bitterly cold day then in December.
"I'll take your beef and chicken plate. It doesn't have any wheat or soy, does it?"
"No, ma'am. We don't use either in our meats. It comes with bread though."
"No bread. I can't eat the bread."
"...Really? Are you allergic?"
"Well, no. I get this a lot. The thing is, I'm breastfeeding my son and he's probably gluten-intolerant because my mom and my aunt and my grandmother both couldn't eat bread..."
"Oooh, okay. I got it. No bread. But still...how can you get by in life without eating....CROISSANTS?!"
"OH! I know, right? I'm something of a baker but we always have to buy the gluten-free stuff for the kids. I can handle wheat and gluten well but it's just a precaution in case. I mean it's just the way you make croissants...you can't do it gluten-free."
"Oh, most definitely."
This time, she ordered the same thing as she pulled up in her lime-green Honda Cube. She did say she would come back and she did. So naturally, we're doing something right at least for one woman and her newborn child.
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