The morning started off with a bang. The fog wasn’t the thickest she had ever seen, but for whatever reason this type of weather made drivers lose their minds. She had already been called out to more than a dozen accidents and was grateful that the majority were minor fender benders.
She had been patrolling the small country town less than a month, and it was apparent that she wasn’t from around there. Being new to this particular force, she decided her mission was to make it work, not only professionally but also socially.
Driving through the town square, she was greeted with ecstatic waves from children who appeared happy that school had been canceled once again for inclement weather. Seeing the families embarking on the town, reminded her that the forecast was for snow but feeling the heat from the rays permeating the glass and looking at the dashboard where it read the outside temperature was sixty-four degrees, she started to chuckle.
The grumble coming from her stomach told her it was time to stop for lunch. Turning back west to make one more round through the town, she spotted it. The local burger joint that many had been talking about. Exiting her vehicle, the smell of greasy burgers made her mouth water. And if she wasn’t sold on it yet, written across the front plate glass window were the years in a row the owner had been given bragging rights to the best burger in thirteen counties.
Taking the few short steps to enter the building, she did a double take. Yep, there was an open sign. As she placed her petite hand on the stainless steel door handle, a spark made her jump but didn’t stop her from walking in the door.
Once in she wasn’t sure she was that hungry anymore. The waitress was behind the bar when their eyes met. The server’s smile quickly turned to a look of disgust and she did a swift turn of the head.
Lisa, being a police officer was trained to watch for hidden words and to be aware of her surroundings, but today she missed out on all the subtleties and took a seat. After what seemed to take longer than she thought was permissible, seeing only three other tables were occupied and they had clearly been eating for a while, the server came to take her order.
“What do you want?”
The server’s tone caught Lisa off guard and by this time, her radio was going off in her ear and she would need to forgo lunch right now.
“I’m sorry.” Lisa replied, “I need to take this call.”
As she turned to walk out the door, a typed sign, in large, bold letters caught her attention.
“WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE, ANYTIME”
Not wanting to cause a scene, she had to wonder, was it the uniform or the color of her skin?
This may or may not be a fictional story, but in my recent travels to a very small town, as I entered the building, I felt something just not right. There was just an aura that made my antennas go up.
Taking a seat, I started to look around. Sure enough I spotted a sign “WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE, ANYTIME.”
For the next thirty minutes I was on edge.
What did that sign mean?
Why was that sign there?
If I were a police officer would I have been welcome?
If I were black would I have been welcome?
If I had worn a political shirt that she didn’t agree with, would I have been served?
If I had been of a different sexual orientation would I have been served?
I hate to admit the hamburger was amazing, and on the same note I hate to admit that I supported an establishment where many of my friends would not have been served.