BOOMERPDX DISCRIMINATION PROFILE

Two men walked into the bar, silhouettes against the glaring sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They looked like two weekend yard guys at happy hour. Jeans and t-shirts, mid-fifties.

In different clothes they’d fit into any country club. Tight hair and smooth shaves do that.

One ordered a black and tan, the other a PBR.

“You know they’ve got real beer here.”

“It’s a test. I like most beer and PBR sets the comparison. If any other beer isn’t better than a PBR, there’s a problem.”

“Right. How’d you get out for beers today?”

“I asked my wife if she’d like to go to the pub. That reminded her she had plans with her girlfriends. I snuck out while she was on the phone. Probably called your wife.”

“She did.”

“How’d you get out?”

“Mowed the yard, planted a few things, then heard your wife on the phone. I told my wife you’d probably sneak out and I should meet you here so you wouldn’t drink too much.”

“Excellent. First round on me.”

Two glasses slid across the copper bar, one full of light golden beer with a foamed top. The other looked like a chemistry experiment.

The bottom of the glass held a deep golden fluid; the top held thick dark liquid with no foam like honey and motor oil.

“Cheers.”

“May the road rise up…”

“OK, OK, just cheers.”

“Cheers, then. No Irish blessing for you, and you’ll need it after that black and tan mess.”

“Probably. I’ve got a question.”

“You’ll need a good one after cutting off Ireland.”

“Have you ever been discriminated against?”

“Here we go. Two white guys sitting around talking about discrimination and The Man while drinking beer.”

“Something happened and it got me thinking. Have I ever been discriminated against? I don’t think so, but how would I know?”

“Did you get a door slammed in your face? A police dog on your leg and water jet in your face? Did you get shot?”

“Nope. I’m with my kid Ralph. Right?”

“Alright.”

“We’re getting an early dinner before an evening thing.”

“Yep. Early dinner. Evening thing.”

“We’re in a sit down chain place. Hardly anyone there but me and Ralph.”

“Ought to be good service.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Ought to be good service. Ralph looks good. He’s twenty. He ought to look good.”

“Great looking kid.”

“That’s right. We get menus, know what we want, and fold them back up. You know, the sign. Ralph hits the can. No one takes our order. Fifteen minutes in an empty place and we wait.”

“No one there?”

“I counted three waitresses. Then one takes our order. And we wait. I ask a waitress if our order got lost. She said it was cooking.”

“Two orders cooking in half an hour. You’re the only ones there?

“Ralph and I. Maybe it’s a shift change, but the same ladies are still there. Ignoring us.”

“And you stick around?”

“We didn’t want fast food. Our plates were in the service window under the heat lamps. I saw them. No one shows up. We leave five minutes later.”

“Got up and left?”

“Like that.”

“Finally.”

“Why did we get ignored? Discrimination.”

“Really?”

“We were seated and abandoned because we didn’t look right.”

“Father and son discrimination by three waitresses with daddy issues?”

“Or Sugar Daddy issues.”

“What? No.”

“I didn’t think of it until later. We drove by someone Ralph knew. They waved. She sent him a quick text with, “Please tell me that was your father.”

“Instead of a couple?”

“Something. I tell you this much, I don’t like it. Being ignored and silently accused of stuff, getting partitioned to tables no one wants. It’s not right.”

“It’s still early in the year but this might be the big story of 2015: Discrimination Is Wrong.”

“It is. Do I look like anyone’s Sugar Daddy?”

“Not sure what kind of daddy, but sugar isn’t my first choice.”

“With my kid, no less.”

“Did you tell him your suspicions?”

“Yes. He thought it was pretty funny. I’m the Sugar Daddy. Then I reminded him of his part.”

“Not so funny?”

“It was to me.”

“Tell Betty-Lou?”

“She wants to go with me to see if I can get discriminated against as a pimp or a john.”

“There’s a difference?”

“And that’s why we sneak out on our wives for beers. I’ll have an IPA. Another Black and Tan?”