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Last week I went to have a smog test done on my car and decided to go to Chili Johns because it was right across the street and I’d heard good things about this Burbank staple. When I walked in I felt transplanted to another place. It took a little (maybe 30-40 seconds of standing) before one of the waitresses behind the counter acknowledged me. When the older one with the long hair did acknowledge me she asked a simple yet offensive question…”Are You Lost?”
Right away I didn’t feel comfortable and I started trying to rationalize why I felt some kind of way. Did I look lost? Did she mean physically lost? Did she mean lost looking at the menu? I concluded…she was asking if I were physically lost.
When you enter a restaurant the staff says, Hi, Welcome, Thanks for coming to so in in so; how can I help you, Be With You In Just A Minute, but not are you lost? She didn’t even come over to help me, another woman did. Looking around, the walls had a mural of cowboys and the wild west. The register was circa 1910, there were only two customer there eating and they were older white men.
It was my first time ordering so I asked for the smallest sized chili they had. Apparently their chili is just the meat sauce and does not include beans. The other lady gave me a little guidance, but still didn’t seem too friendly. We talked briefly about the contraption that is their new tablet credit card thingy, she brought my chili, asked if I wanted onions, left the onion container on the counter for me, then split.
The chili wasn’t bad, but I now know that the folks over at Chili John don’t take kindly to my kind around there. If you’re black and in Burbank, beware.
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