Lauren- That’s racist!
Me- You keep using that word. I don’t think that word means what you think it means.
At times, when looking for a new breakfast place to eat at, we will walk into a place and check it out. Now I used to be a detective so I don’t have to sit down, order something, and then eat to know if I am going to like a place. I know the moment I walk in. See back in the detecting days we had these things called “clues”. We used them to make determinations about things we didn’t actually know about. They gave us direction. Kind of like seeing steam come out of a cup of water. You don’t have to stick your finger in it to see if it’s hot. You know it’s hot. Clues are cool.
So, here’s a clue. When you go into a Mexican restaurant looking for a good Mexican breakfast and you see a bunch of white people sitting there eating, you are in the wrong place. Well, at least I am. I know based on my decades of experience that I am just not going to like the breakfast served there. It’s just the way it is. But my daughter Lauren, not being the multi-level thinker that I am, sees white people in there and here’s me say “no, let’s get out of here”, says I’m racist.
It’s not the people, it’s the food. Not that I don’t like white people food (except for grits, don’t get me started on grits), because I do. But I have learned that many Mexican restaurants around here (deep south Texas) that cater to white people believe that they have to “whiten” their food. I don’t think they have to, but most of them appear to think that way. And that means weak hot sauce and fake (store bought) tortillas. I cannot, in good conscience, stand for that. Life is too short.
But don’t get me wrong. I love me a good Waffle House. But Waffle House is not a Mexican restaurant and I don’t go there looking for refried beans and flour tortillas. I go there looking for waffles. And grits. But the grits only so I can taste them and thank the good lord I was born a Mexican. Sorry, white people. Grits are evil.
So am I racist for seeing white people and walking out? I say no. I say I am just being smart. Now of course this is just a general view. There are exceptions. Today we ate breakfast at a Mexican place and the food was great. It was only after I walked in and ordered that the restaurant got filled up and mostly by old white people, and for the most part they ordered Mexican food. So there are exceptions. There are also, I learned, discounts for 55 and over at that restaurant. Still being the good looking 56-year-old with a head full of hair I doubt the waitress would have believed me, but I will give it a try next time. You learn something new every day here in the valley.
Speaking of old white folks. We have here in south Texas people that are called “Winter Texans”. It’s older white people that come down from the god forsake frozen tundras of anything south of San Antonio. It’s too cold for anyone to live up there anytime after August so these fine folks come down and spend a few months here soaking up the pretty much year round sun that we love to complain about. I never met a winter Texan I didn’t like.
But the trees. Just a bit off from where I sometimes sit and read or write I can see rows and rows of tall palm trees. I don’t like them. You can bet that if you see a tall palm tree here someone put it there. I am not even sure they are native to this area. But they are everywhere, especially where winter Texans hang their hat. I don’t know why this is. They are not especially pretty. And not even birds like them that much. So, not sure whose idea this was. Maybe it’s just one of those things someone thought it was a good idea and it caught on. Love those winter Texans. Hate those trees.
It’s important to get out there and vote. Blue wishes he could vote. Of course, he knows nothing of politics, except that Donald Trump is the only president ever not to have a dog at the White House. We all know how he would vote if he could. Good dog.