April 09, 2009

I literally had the craziest experience at work last night.  On one
hand, it makes me feel a bit sad for the state of society in general
and our attitudes towards certain demographics of people, but a lot of
it makes me feel really angry and insulted.  After you read what
happens, please feel free to share your thoughts, seeing as you are
objective observers while I am a participant in the matter with very
subjective feelings.



As some of you know, I work at Pizza Nova in Hillcrest -- across the
street from Corvette Diner -- so its safe to say that it's a pretty
urban location.  We get a lot of customers from foot traffic and a lot
of movie goers.  Recently though, we've had quite a few homeless people
come in to eat, or to try to eat anyway, because of a coupon we
recently put in the Gay and Lesbian Times.  The coupon offers a free
pizza, no strings attached.  You could walk in, get a glass of water
and a 10" pizza, and not have to pay a penny.  Usually, we've had
repeat customers use the coupon and they really appreciate the kind of
deal they're receiving, but as I mentioned before, we've also attracted
quite a few transients.  Not all of them have come in to use the
coupon, but they have come in expecting to get something free, which is
certainly not a good thing, especially since word of mouth travels
faster around this population than a magazine with a very small
circulation.



Last night, I had a table of 5 people who thoroughly fit the
description of wayward street dwellers.  Most of the men were dirty and
carrying backpacks, their speech was garbled and incomprehensible at
times, and the etiquette they displayed suggested that they didn't
really go to restaurants often.  One man seated at the head of the
table was especially loud, occasionaly vulgar, and would vascillate
between a conciliatory tone and a furious tone of speech with his
friends, at times telling them to order whatever they wanted and then
immediately calling them lowlives and good-for-nothings because they
were mooching off of him to come to this "fine establishment."  It was
obvious that the man had some kind of mental illness, but I usually
don't fault people for their actions based on that.  I know people who
would otherwise pass as normal who are diagnosed with some kind of
mental disorder, and to judge them solely based on a label would be
unfair and wrong since mental illness does not define them as people. 
Nevertheless, I was there to do a job and serve customers, so I
dutifully took their drink order -  a Heinekin, a double shot of Jack
Daniels and Coke, a rum and Coke, regular Coke, and a flavored ice
tea. 



I brought everything to their table, then took orders for appetizers,
soup and salad.  Once again, the "benevolent" gentlemen at the head of
the table graciously offered his guests whatever they desired.  One
man, the only one drinking a soft drink with out any added liquor,
proceeded to order what he wanted, only to be interrupted by his
friend's erratic shouting and berating comments.  The man who ordered
the Coke was pleasant and polite, apoligized for the actions of some of
his friends.  While I suspect that he knew his friend had no money to
pay for the food, he refused to tolerate the general rudeness of the
men in his party.  His girlfriend was equally as amiable and sweet. 
After he ordered, I received some orders for the most expensive item on
the menu, a slow roasted lamb shank (one man could not read that menu
item ), while the man at the end of the table ordered a lasagna. 
Throughout this whole process, the loud, brash man continued to tell me
that he was an ex-server and that he knew how things worked in a
restaurant.  This language was usually accompanied by an rather hard
taps on the arm.  I felt uncomfortable at this point and told my
manager to keep an eye out for them just in case, as I was nervous
about their ability to pay and how their actions would escalate. 



The shit really hit the fan when the meals began to come out.  I
brought out the four entrees, depositing each one to the rightful
consumer, including delivering the lasagna to the man at the head of
the table.  He looked up at me with very angry eyes and yelled, "What
are you trying to do?  Hurry me out of this restaurant?  I came hear to
eat, goddammit!"  Once again, the man with the Coje tried to calm him
down as I explained that I ordered the food in after they got their
salads.  In fact, he was the only one at the table not finished with
his starter.  He looked back up at me again, this time saying "You're
trying to hurry me out!! You're a fucking worthless piece of shit!  I'm
an ex-server! You're trying to hurry me out!!  Oh look, I'm in Fairy
Hill, with all the fags. Fucking Fairy Hill!  I'm trying to eat!"  At
this point I was livid, but unsure how to react, especially since I was
afraid of some kind of physical altercation at this point.  His friends
could sense what was coming and asked me to leave so they could calm
him down, but I had obviously had enough. I got my manager and told him
that they had to kick this guy out.  He went down to the gentleman,
asked him to leave, and was assaulted with a barrage of curse words and
defamatory remarks.  He threw salad at the busser and forcefully
grabbed another one of my coworkers by the arm before leaving in a
huff.  His friends were allowed to stay, but clearly they could not
afford the bill, so they started to scramble away as well.  The entire
table was gone after 5 minutes, but I was shaken up.  My coworkers felt
the weight of it as well, especially since they had to absorb all of
the customers that had been seated in my station. and who wanted to
move because of the noise.  I apologized profusely to my other tables,
who empathized with me (at least that's what their tips suggested) but
it really ruined my night.



I had judged these people right at the start, before I had even come to
their table.  I had a positive frame of mind, thinking they might
actually have come into a bit of cash and were looking for a modest
meal.  I hoped this was true, especially since I hold people to be
equals.  This sounds silly, but everyone deserves creature comforts
once in a while, even if its something silly like being waited on at a
restaurant.  I felt sad for the man who was overtaken by mental illness
and frustrated that the current system could not do more to help him
and his friends get back on their feet.  The couple in the party were
very sweet, well kept, and polite.  I suspected that they had just hit
a bout of bad luck, but would be on the road to recovery soon.  As the
meal progressed, however, I can't describe how much I felt I was being
taken advantage of.  I constantly had orders barked at me,  was not
able to take other tables because of the scene these people were
causing . . . it's a strange feeling really, I can't totally articulate
it, but I'd liken it to feeling used by people who clearly had no
regrets.  I've had a good life, for certain, obviously better than
these individuals, but should I feel guilty for my privilege?  I know
I'll never be in their situation.  I will always have somebody in my
life who can take care of me.  I l know not every one is as lucky as
me, but, really, what can I do about it?

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