The day before St. Paddy's Day I stopped through the bar near me with the plywood sign to have a drink, and Phyllis was talking to the (old) (white) guy sitting next to me about how she was dating this guy who passed away and her little granddaughter went to the funeral, and she stood up on the prayer rail and looked into coffin, and then asked if [the guy's name] was asleep.
"No honey," Phyllis said she told her granddaughter, "He's dead now, and is with God in heaven, but you can talk with him in your prayers."
"Gramma," Phyllis says her granddaughter told her, "Don't ever become dead."
When I was leaving, I asked Phyllis if the free corned beef was happening on St. Paddy's Day at the bar. She said it was, and she was going to be bringing in chocolate cupcakes with green icing, but she wouldn't stay long because of the bartender Sharon who was working.
"You know her?", she was like.
"Yeah, she's been nice to me," I said.
"That's 'cause you're white," Phyllis said. "I've seen so many times she won't serve a black customer, or a Mexican customer, or no-one," and she talked about this regular (black) customer who was coming in for years and would leave a $5 bill for a tip always, whether he had one drink or four, and he would put it out and just set it on the bar when he had his 1st drink.
"I've been in here and seen him wait so many times," she was like, "And she does that to the Mexicans too. That's just not right, I think that's just not right. I love everyone! I say, the more people the merrier, let everyone come in, bring 'em on!"
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1 comment:
Wow.
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