As this blog thing becomes more of a daily or regular occurrence at our house, my Husband is becoming more and more involved. At first, he wanted nothing to do with this blog. In fact, he was a blog shunner. Then he would be sitting on the other end of the couch and ask me what I was blogging about today? I would look at him askance and mumble something or another and leave it at that.
Fast forward two and a half months later and now I find myself reading him my blogs before I can finish them. Good thing because I need a proofreader. STAT!! He is especially interested in the blogs about him.
Anyway, I was reading him my blog about needing to learn Spanish. He became very angry. He began talking about how ridiculous racism was in any form. He then asked me, if I remembered an incident from a few years ago. I had almost completely forgotten. Then he said he thought I should write about it and ask all of you what you thought.
So, here goes. This actually happened to me about five or six years ago.
We wanted El Pollo Loco. I love chicken and sometimes I just don't want to cook. Throw me in Housewife jail. Please.
So, I went to fetch some chicken. Thinking that the drive through line would be the fastest and most efficient way to purchase some chicken and tortillas. I slipped into line with everyone else. The line was long. I could hear the people ordering chicken before me at the little order box. Everyone was ordering in a mix of Spanish and English. It was all really loud. Crazy loud.
I get up to the box and I order Chicken in English only. The Lady says, We have no Chicken. I thought perhaps I had done something wrong and was in a Jerry Seinfeld episode and the Soup Nazi was replaced by the Chicken Lady. She was denying me Chicken. "No Chicken for You!!" She was apparently out of all chicken except burritos. OK? I ordered burritos. I was so sad.
I heard the people behind me order chicken in a mixture of Spanish and English. The Chicken Lady took the Order. WTF? I thought maybe she misunderstood me. Then I think, what is so hard to misunderstand about chicken?
I get to the window, and see that all the people in the restaurant are getting chicken. They are all speaking very loudly and not in English. I tell the lady that I heard her take the car behind me order for chicken and I say look all those people are getting chicken. I wave at the people inside. Why can't I have chicken like everyone else? She smiles and says there is no chicken here. We are out of chicken.
I ask to speak to the Manager. The Manager comes to me and I explain the situation. I tell him everything. He looks at the Chicken Lady and he then gives me a box of Chicken. It was a miracle. Chicken from heaven He gives me the Chicken for free. I pay for the burritos and am still in shock.
I come home with a sad sack of chicken burritos and a box of miracle chicken that appeared from thin air. I tell my family about what has happened. My Husband becomes insane with anger. I end up calling El Pollo Loco and tell them what happened. They listen and send me a ten dollar gift certificate for my next order with them and they suggest I go to another location. Oh, yes...that fixes everything. I hope you can see me roll my eyes.
I didn't go to El Pollo Loco for a very long time. I think we have not gone there twice since then and not to that particular store.
I understand that many races hate white people and are possibly justified from past actions. However, I am not personally responsible for any crimes against any people of any color or culture that I am aware of. Yet, I find that simply because I am not dark brown or deep ebony brown I am being hated simply because I am not. I find this so strange and odd since those people who cry most against racism are now the ones to initiate it. My mind boggles at how we are ever going to get past this and just be one people working and loving each other for the betterment of all people and our planet. Will this ever end?
I probably put that memory away into my forget file. I sometimes do that, when traumatized with horrible situations that are incomprehensible. I call it my Scarlet O'Hara gift. It is useful on occasion and I suggest everyone develop it from time to time.
However, I think it was a very sad story. I am tired of stories like these. I really am. My Husband is right to have me share this story even though I really didn't want to remember it.
Do you think the Chicken Lady heard my voice and on purpose decided to single me out and deny me chicken just because of what she thought my race was based on by my voice or do you think she was telling me the truth?
Do you think this is a case of reverse racism or not? Tell me what you think? Has this ever happened to you?
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