(I started this when I got home from the bar last week and wanted to polish it up before I posted it. Slash, not depress anyone on a lovely and carefree holiday. It was, however, fresh in my mind when I wrote it.)
I just got home from my bar. Like most Thursday nights, I finally limped out the door between 2 and 3am, and, with great effort, dragged myself towards the street curb to get a cab home.
As I was walking towards the street, I noticed a group trying to hail one as well- two well-dressed couples; all four people were black. As I neared them, I watched a couple of empty cabs whoosh by. A little confused, I noticed that Matt, one of our youngest (and sweetest) servers was also waiting, trying to wave a cab over. I stood back a bit and let the people who had been waiting first continue their attempts. Two, then three, then four empty cabs drove by. This was mind-boggling to me, as every time I’ve left the bar before I literally have cabs vying for my money. (I’m only telling you this so that you can see how truly naive I can be sometimes. Never mind the fact that my brain was completely fried from a long day at the office, followed by a much longer night at the bar.) I walked over to him and he took his headphones off.
“Matt, they’re all empty. Why aren’t they stopping?” He was kind enough not to laugh at me. Instead, he paused for a heavy moment and said,
“Because I’m black.”
Anyone who knows me? Knows that I’m not often speechless.
“What… wait, what?” Half of me was hoping he was kidding… the other half of me felt my heart sink as I realized he was probably right, and that sudden realization made me feel both furious that such a sweet kid could be subjected to something like that… and also guilt. Lots of guilt.
“It’s because I’m black,” he said, matter-of-factly. “They’ve told me it is.”
I really didn’t know what to say. It didn’t make sense to apologize. For what? That the whole system was fucked? That the cabbies were operating on stereotypes, just like I often do behind the bar? I pride myself on not letting my snap judgments affect the service I give those who enter, no matter how often said suspicions are confirmed (and I’m talking about everybody here, folks- men, women, college kids, blue collar, super rich, tourists, people of all races, etc.- it’s impossible not to develop certain expectations in a job based on tips. It is possible to not act on them). But what if, like a cabbie, my life might depend on it? Would I behave differently?
Matt said that he was going to walk up to the busier intersection, bid me good night, and sauntered off. I stood there for a moment as empty cabs suddenly slowed down next to me. Defeated, I sighed as I waved one over and fell in. A minute later, I was coasting by Matt, snug in a taxi on my way home, as he wearily tread down the sidewalk. I would have asked the cab to pick him up as well, but I know Matt wouldn’t have accepted, and we drove on. I don’t know if he saw me. I couldn’t bear to look at him.
Fucked. Up.
{ 9 comments }
Fucked up. That’s really the only way of describing it.
I know, Frecks, I know. I wish I had something more profound to say, but that’s really all there is to it.
I’m pretty sure the WaPo did an article on this a few years ago. Unfortunately, I’ve seen it in action.
As a Blasian who is often perceived to be Filipino instead of half black & half asian, I don’t experience very much of this. I can’t pretend, though, that I’ve never been on the wrong end of this stick. I even found myself nodding a dissatisfied nod as I read.
It’s a shame, and it’s also a cruel reminder that we have a long way to go.
bateshorn, i-66: Agreed 100%… it made me sick to my stomach, and I felt so hopeless. The saddest part was how resigned to the face that sweet kid was.
It’s hard to see this stuff…and hard to realize how naive we can be in the comfort of our privilege. These reminders are good.
Lem- absolutely. As much as it hurt to watch, I was grateful to have the reminder shake up my pretty little world for a moment and make me appreciate how easy I really have it… and, as i-66 said, how far we have to go.
thats illegal as hell – he needs to get their information from the cabs as they whizz by and report them.
Good Lord this is 2008 – I feel for your friend.
Amen, Zip. If it happens again and I’m not so exhausted that I don’t have use of my arms, I’ll do it myself.