Saturday, February 2, 2008

Black People

I guess this means I'm racist. But I'm also half black. So that makes me.... a Blacist. I really don't like black people, at my job. Not the employees, (Of which there are few) but the customers. I do my best to find something to do in the freezer, show someone where the Velveeta cheese is, or catch a sudden case of the green apple splatters when I see a black person walk up and start looking for help. I feel so horrible and dirty admitting this!!! It's because I already know what's coming. You can give them the same hints, prices, and seafood as any other race, and they immediatley think they are being discriminated against. A customer about a week ago. One of my nightmares. Black woman, early forties. "I need some orange roughy. Do you have any?" I pause. "I'm not sure, maam. I have to take a look in my freezer. Give me just a moment.." Her smile turned into a hard line. "Will that be a problem?" I was so surprised by her sudden change in character that I almost giggled as I said, "No maam, that's my job..." Then on the way back to the freezer to check, I started to get irritated. Why the fuck would that be a problem, anyway?... No orange roughy in the freezer. I wanted to shoot myself, but since I had no gun, I returned to my department to find her, now on her cell phone, with three new non-smiling customers tapping their toes behind her. As soon as I could grab her attention for a second and tell her, she became even more irate. "Maam, we don't have any. I went to-" She cut me off. "Well never mind then. Yall got and Dungeon (Dungeness, idiot!) crabs?" I rolled my eyes in my mind's eye and said, "Yes we do. We have the whole crabs at the moment, for $5.99lb. They weigh about-" Cut off agian. "Just give me two." Yes maam. Back in the cold-ass freezer. Dungeness crabs at the very bottom of a big fuckin stack of various heavy boxes. My fingertips were numb, and by the time I got out of the freezer, Snarlie was up at the counter, helping the poor SOB's who had the misfortune of lining up behind her. As soon as I printed the tag, she snapped, "No, I wanted those steamed, with Old Bitch seasoning." So great, fifteen more minutes of this salty-ass heifer loafing around my counter and scaring off potential customers with her loud-ass cell phone conversation. Cut to fifteen minutes later. Takes the bag of crabs, no thank you, and walks off. I go to lunch. When I get back, the steam bag is sitting back on one of the counters. I wanted to kick her motherfucking ass. It seems like every black person I help out has the tendancy to monopolize every bit of time that they can, try to spend the least amount possible, by haggling even, and then usually still don't buy a god damn thing. And if I had a penny for every time someone asked if they could use an EBT card to buy seafood.... UGH. Just ugh.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I dont think ur racist at all. Experience has just revealed the truth to you. I am a black female server at a restaurant and let me tell u...I ABSOLUTELY CAN'T STAND SERVING BLACK PEOPLE!!! Of course, not ALL black people..because there are a couple of them that were raised with decency and know how to act intelligently. I'm talking about the ghetto black trash. They're very demanding, have the worst attitude and are always trying to get something for free. I've even come to find out through my 2 years of serving that blacks are indeed some of the worst tippers ever. I cringe to see them comming my way. It's terrible, because I'M fully black and I feel this way.