Table 12

A young couple and his mom (you could tell because they were black and the girlfriend was white) sat down for a lovely dinner and a chat...well less of a chat and more of a harangue from the mother about the young couples impending nuptials. She was of the mind that they should not get they're interracial.

Now, as customers, they were actually pretty nice. They ordered quickly, were happy with both their food and their service, and they tipped well. They're featured here because of their conversation. I'll fill you in on the bits I got to hear. (Please note, the boyfriend pretty much stayed silent with his head turned away from the two women arguing.)

Mother: How can you say you respect yourself if you let a man move into your house when he doesn't have a job? What kind of a woman not only supports a lazy man, but lets him sleep in her bed before they're married.
Girlfriend: He's not in my bed. He's on the couch.
Mother: Does that make it any better? If anything that's worse. You're supposed to be marrying him but you won't even let him sleep in the same room as you?
Girlfriend: He sleeps with me sometimes.
Mother: Well then how do you know he's into you for you and and not just for what you're giving him.
Girlfriend: He's marrying me isn't he?
Boyfriend: Can I have more orange soda?

Mother: And your children?
Girlfriend: They'll be fine.
Mother: Child, neither race really accepts interracial children. They'll be outcasts.
Girlfriend: I have no idea what year you're living in.
Mother: Don't give me, "Times have changed." I deal with racism as much today as I did twenty years ago. It would be better if you don't even have kids than to have half breeds.
Boyfriend: Do you have Tabasco sauce?

Mother: What can a white girl know about being with a black man? You can't cook like his momma and you sure don't clean like his momma.
Girlfriend: I'm not going to be his momma, I'm going to be his wife.

Mother: You've only been dating four months. That's not even serious.
Girlfriend: We've known each other for a year.
Boyfriend: Can I get a box, that was such good food.
Mother: Yes, the food was wonderful. Enjoy it son. She *points to Girlfriend* won't be able to cook you fried chicken like that.
Boyfriend: Oh, can I get an orange soda to go too?

I'm not being racist, he really did have fried chicken and orange soda...In case you're wondering the mom had chile rellenos and the girlfriend had a burrito.
Which brings us to the moral of our story:
People of all colors like Mexican food.


Table 7

A couple in their mid-40's and an old guy (I'm guessing he was the dude's father) have been waiting for approximately 45 seconds. (I was right behind the host that sat them and only stopped to pick up a water before getting to their table.)
I put down the water and say, "Good evening folks. How are you doing tonight?"
Dude: We're ready to order.
Me: Good deal, what can I do for you ma'am? (I like to start with the ladies order, seems polite right?)
Dude: I'll have the Patty Melt, no onions, on sourdough bread, with cheddar instead of american cheese and NO ONIONS. Okay? Can you do that? No Onions.
Me: Yes, I got it. No onions. How do you like your burger cooked?
Dude: Did you hear the rest? Cheddar cheese and sourdough? And make sure there are No Onions anywhere on the plate.
Me: Yes, sir. *shows book where I write down orders* See, no onions, cheddar, sourdough. How do you like it cooked?
Dude: Medium rare. Not bloody. Med-I-Um RARE.
Me: Okay, what can I get for you ma'am.
Dude: She's going to have the Patty Melt, too.
Me: Okay, how do you like yours cooked ma'am?
Dude: Make sure there's no onions on hers either.
Lady: Well done and I'll have mine just like his, but on rye and with swiss cheese (Which I'd like to point out is not just like his at all...unless you count the no onions)
Me: Got it. And for you sir?
Old Dude: Patty Melt. The way it comes. Medium.
Me: Awesome, does anyone need anything to drink with your burgers?
Dude: Just make sure there's no onions and I'll be okay.

I bring out their food a few minutes later...

Me: Can I get you folks any mustard or mayo for your burgers, ranch for your fries?
Dude: I can smell onions. Are you sure this is cheddar? It looks like American cheese.
Me: The onions are on his burger *points to Old Dude* and as far as I know it's cheddar. Do you need anything else to go with your dinner?
Old Dude: This ketchup's empty. *squirts ketchup on my arm* Oh, I guess there was a little left.
Me: *stunned silence*
Lady: Well? Can we get a NEW ketchup?

I didn't even answer, I just walked away.
I told the manager that the Old Dude at Table 7 had just squirted ketchup on my arm...and he laughed. I made him take them their ketchup and their check and I ate the rest of his onion rings.