I’m sure you’ve heard of the old cliche—“fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me”, right? Well I’ve gotta admit, there is much truth to the old saying. When I ventured out last evening for some good ole Cuban takeout for the family, what should have been a pleasant trip to a frequented hole in the wall dive—but authentically decent Cuban joint turned out to be anything but that. La Teresita, reminiscent of an old 1950s cafe straight out of Havana has been a staple in the Tampa Bay area for over four decades. It was the closest thing to what I knew to experience of little Havana back in Miami. So it became a staple to me here in Tampa. Back to last evening. When I first sat down at the counter, the waitress directed me to the takeout side of the restaurant. The plan was to order my take out and order a drink while I waited. No worries. I moseyed on over to the takeout counter and proceeded with my order. I moseyed on back over to the main cafeteria in hopes to order my drink and indulge in some awesome people watching. When I politely requested the attention of one of the waitresses, she replied “I can’t help you, I don’t work this section” and walked away without ever looking in my direction for the rest of my time at the counter. Hold tight. It gets worst. So the hopeful optimist in me proceeded to track down a second waitress. Better luck? No bueno. She comes over, I asked to order a drink while I waited for my takeout. She shuts me down with, “No, you can not order here” and yells “Chiquita…..” as she sparks up a conversation with a couple of her coworkers who in turn looks over in my direction with condescending smirks on their faces. Then suddenly I had a flashback to a week ago while dining at said establishment. I recalled another patron doing the same, ordering takeout and coming over to the main counter requesting a cup of water. I recalled the rude and abrupt tone to which this same waitress addressed him. Ah ha. There it was, my experience was confirming the inevitable. What I had previously discounted as just a waitress having a bad day turned out to be much more.
Less respect and more sincere ignorance. Was it the hooded sweatshirt? The fresh face? Who knew. But one thing was for sure, I’d deserved much more than that especially after all of the money that I had spent in the past patronizing the establishment. But it was evident that it didn’t matter. I escalate the situation and got the Manager involved. By this time I could feel my blood boiling over—-bringing out the Caribbean, Bronx and Miami in me (that’s one hell of a mix…LOL). So the Manager approaches, I shared my experience asking him to confirm whether my refusal to obtain not even a single damn cup of agua was company policy. He quickly grew angry, replying, “No, that’s ridiculous” and assured me that what had transpired was far from company culture, offered me a drink and vowed that he would take care of the situation. Who would have known on this day, in remembrance and in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. the little quaint 1950s style diner would bring back so many 1950s era memories. With a current buying power of $1 trillion that is forecasted to reach $1.3 trillion by the year 2017, let’s make sure that we are spending our money where we are simply not just tolerated but are appreciated and celebrated. Recognize your worth, demand your respect. Until next time….Peace, Love & Blessings!
