Shantih Journal 2.1 | Page 93

“Why? Are you a faggot too!” he screamed. This delighted the help even more. “Would you like for me to call the police?” I responded. “That’s a man! That’s a man!....” he continued his litany. The first person, apparently an assistant manager, called the hecklers by name and said, laughing, “Come on now, leave.” He kept looking back at the fellow in the red dress, who ate his sandwich faster than a priest can say Mass when he has a hot date waiting for him in the choir room. Finally the real manager came. I asked him for his name, but he would not give it to me. “That young boy for many minutes has been insulting customers. Do you pay him to do that?” “He works somewhere else.” “So you allow him to sit here insulting customers wearing the livery of your company? Will I have to go for the police to get this to stop? What....” By this time the entire restaurant was stony silent, 93