Tonight my family and I decided to go out to dinner to one of those hibachi style restaurants. We don’t go there often but when I do, I like to make the most of it. By that, I mean the lobster tail and filet mignon combo is usually my go to.
A little after the onion volcano – easily the fan favorite – my wife asks if I saw her text. I hadn’t so I checked to see why she was texting me from 3 feet away.
Her text asked if I had heard the snide comments from the table over about someone at our table having expensive taste. Of course that someone was me, because I was the only one who ordered lobster tail at our table. Until that moment, I hadn’t paid any attention to them. I was focused on making sure the kids were having fun and also that they didn’t burn the building down because, you know, open flame.
At that point, I took a quick peek over to see what was going on. It was a table of 6 fairly subdued white people. Nothing strange about that. They were definitely having a look at that spread at our table. Nothing too noteworthy about that either.
And then their chef rolled up. I did a double take because what I saw on his cart didn’t seem consistent with those earlier comments… This guy pulls off FOUR lobster tails for that very table of six people. You’re probably wondering what caused such a swift change of heart. So let me give you my perspective.
It seems they were looking to see who ordered the lobster. And once they saw me enjoying my perfectly cooked meal they had to have it.
Call me a cynic, but this sure seems like a classic case of not wanting to be one-upped by the Black guy.
Or maybe my expensive taste is an airborne contagion.
You be the judge.