It's after 10 p.m. on Ash Wednesday, I'm sitting at the bar after Trivia and a few games of darts talking to my friend P., when a man with an ashen cross on his forehead walks into the bar. He stands next to me and asks for a Guinness.
As the bartender goes to pour him one, he starts to shout, "Hey. Hey. You got tequila? You got Patron?" He then pulls a small flashlight from his pocket and shines it on the bottle of Patron clearly visible on the bar. To his credit the bartender remains calm and says, "Yeah. We have tequila, Patron, okay. What do you want; a shot, a glass, a mixer?" All this as he moves away, intent on pouring this gentleman's original request for a Guinness.
Apparently that didn't suit our customer, who moved to the side of the bar that the bartender was now on and asked, "Are you Klan?"
"What?"
"You Klan? Who's Klan up in here? I'm Klan. I'm a general of this"
It's at this point that I relate to the reader that our new friend was very clearly Dominican or of some other Hispanic/Caribbean decent and probably the least "white" person in the bar. P's. friend B., who was almost asleep, raises his fist to just off the bar and without a hint of sincerity says, "White Power."
The bartender steps in before The General can get too upset, and asks him to leave. A little bit of back and forth as to whether or not the bartender/manager on duty has the right to evict him and our new friend leaves in a huff. Barely more than one minute after he had came into our lives, he was gone again.
No comments:
Post a Comment