Reservations (the dinner kind)

I am so glad to report that I no longer need to use a fake name to get reservations at a restaurant!

Before, I would call up to reserve a table and I could hear the suspicion in the hostess’ voice when I said my name. “How exactly is that spelled?” It was like she was holding her nose just to write the thing down. It used to take three or four spellings just to get the person to write down my name. It took forever. They acted as if it were a collection of letters that had no business lining up next to each other, let alone being pronounced all at the same time. Then finally when I would get to the restaurant, I’d have to find my own name on the reservation list because the hostess couldn’t find my name because she had no idea how to visualize it to look for it on the list. Even if she could, it wouldn’t matter because after several spellings of my name on the phone to the first hostess, my name always still ended up misspelled on the list. It got to be such an exhausting experience that I just started using the name “Jen Brown” to make reservations.

It’s funny how there is something about racism being over that means that people of color are actually known about and understood. It doesn’t remove who we are or make us invisible- it makes me feel as if I am no longer an out-layer. I am actually part of the norm. Who knew that feeling average would feel so good? Being boring is actually a pleasure! I had friends who used to say “I’m just a boring white guy.” I didn’t know that meant “Life is good because I can relax and be taken as a regular part of our culture and not be made to feel like a wart on society on a regular basis.”

I get it now.