Today I'm in Detroit, MI.
Just for the next few hours, however, since I'm here on a flight layover on my way to IL. I've already stopped into a few of the stores here looking for take-home souveneirs for friends and family--not a usual thing, but if I see something interesting while I'm wandering around between flights I'll pick up something for the kids. Kaitlyn, my niece, is still easy to shop for, but Johnny's hit that early 'tween age when I'm more challenged to find something he'll enjoy.
For the budding artiste (K) I found a fun little book for kids of all ages that challenges the reader to draw things right in the book. She's just starting to read, with help from her big brother who has spelling tests to study for on a weekly basis, and she's already shown a fair talent for creative drawing. And good, too!
While I'm here, I can't help but notice a great deal of folks passing through on various flights who are here from Africa, I think a religious conference of some kind as there are many Bible cases and totes of all sorts with church or faith-school organization logos.
I'm here during the late-lunch hours in a smaller, more remote section of the airport. Lunch options are limited, and since the bagel place was out of the Asiago-wrapped hot dog (pig-in-a-bagel?) I wound up down the way at a pub called Thee Irish Pub.
The name is a little weird . . . totally improper use of a pronoun in place of an article. (Thee means "you".) I could tell right away this was going to be a crazy spot--the place was fairly packed and seemingly understaffed. While I was looking over the menu at the door, a gentleman who'd been sitting at a table to my left was having some difficulty getting the attention of a waitress. He seemed nice, shy probably, but clearly getting frustrated as the two waitresses were on the opposite side of the room dealing with whatever and having their own crisis and gripes between themselves and very. slowly. working their way over to where we were. On top of that, the seating hostess showed up (between bussing tables), and as he started asking if he could place an order she just jumps right in and points out that he'll just have to hold on for a waitress and she just couldn't help him.
I should have cut and run back to the bagel place, but I dug in and did what I could to try to help the man out (plus, the cabbage soup looked decent)--he was not from here (African by his accent, with that impressive deepest-dark skintone), stuck in a rude place, and I hate the thought of someone's impression of Americans tainted by RUDE Americans AND a faulty impression that you are not being helped because of your skin color . . . he was trapped
by his location at the farthest end of the restaurant away from where the waitresses were, and it had nothing to do with anything except inept waitstaff. Maybe I'm a little sensitive to that from growing up in the south, where ignorant old white men still rant about The Negro, and ignorant young Nation of Islam rant for 20 minutes about The Whites because I asked "Can I help you?" while working at Lowe's--different story. I dunno, I just saw what was happening, how he was
getting upset and how the attitudes of the waitstaff might be interpreted from any variety of viewpoints. I grabbed a table a little farther into the room and eventually (some 10 minutes later!!) the waitress made her way over to me to ask what I wanted to drink--"Coke please, and I believe that gentleman is ready to place his order, he was here before me." He waved his thanks.
Anyway, he and I shared some "Wow, they are really horrible" smiles over employees yelling at other customers before I finished up and ran out of there as fast as I could. Example from the bartender/waitress to someone sitting at the bar asking if he could order a burger: "I can't take your order right now. You don't realize HOW MUCH I have to clean up back here and this entire area is a MESS! I have to ORGANIZE."
"Have a good trip," I say to the man as I walk by on my way out. "'Bye" he says with a smile.
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