I worked through college, nearly every weekend.  I waited on tables in a number of Chinese restaurants.  Mostly, I allowed the customers enough time to browse through the menu and jotted down their orders.  Occasionally, I would answer their questions about particular menu items.  Every once in a while, they’d ask me to recommend an item or help them narrow it down.  After that it was about timing.

At a very basic level, waiting on tables simply involves getting people what they asked for.  Naturally, subtle differences will enhance the experience.  Timeliness matters, of course.  Good presentation gets you brownie points.  However, some exceptions exist; you can’t serve alcohol to underage drinkers.  Though generally, that’s close to it; you get people what they want.

Continue reading “And marriage for all”

We moved to Florida from Puerto Rico in 1978, about a year after my father’s death.  I had just finished fourth grade in our Catholic school and transitioned into the Broward Country public school system.  During that first year in Florida, I attended a Spanish and English bilingual classroom.  Our convertible classroom sat in the corner of the school, and the few dozen students spanned all grades from the school.  My sister and I spent the entire school day in this room, except for recess.

David, a boy outside of our bilingual program, befriended me during recess.  We could barely communicate, but still he demonstrated a genuine interest in me.  As our friendship grew and the holidays approached, I asked him what his plans were for Christmas.  His face grew stern, and he responded, “I’m Jewish; I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Continue reading “The paradox of tolerance”