"You eat like one of us," she said with an enthusiastic and purposeful smile."I'm sorry?" because I didn't understand what she was getting at - plus, it was hard to hear over the box fan.
"You eat like a black person; we like to put hot sauce on everything!" Merl told me this, the smile never leaving her face.
She's the owner of a new breakfast / lunch corner restaurant appropriately named, "Merl's." If you can believe it, for lunch (at this point, a couple of weeks ago) I had fried salmon patties (covered in hot sauce), fried eggs, grits, and wheat toast.
The meal was pretty good. The service was outstanding. Merl's hospitality made me feel like I belong.
There's a lot to make me feel like I don't belong here (that is, in my neighborhood).
The color of my skin.
My family origins.
An accent that slips out every now and again.
Where I work.
Where I play.
My age.
The multiple tickets I've received.
Sometimes, there are stares. When we first moved here, someone saw my truck as an object of their hatred - I think I may have written about this earlier (the scratches). After the truck came the trash - not just normal Philly trash, but the kind that is intentionally left in front of our home in a bag. Following that, there have been at least two people (neighbors - I know where they live on our block) who have asked us for money.
But then, there are the smiles.
There's Mr. Henderson, our next door neighbor who tells us he's missed us when we travel and who tells us he's glad to see us again.
There's Bill and Juliet (members at Tenth Presbyterian) who always greet me with a smile, who always have something to say about what's going on with them or something to ask about what's going on with me.
There's Rahim - our little buddy Rahim - who waves at me from down the street and yells "Hi," to me. He remembers my name too.
There's also Rahim - the adult Muslim who lives down the street - who always has a honk , a wave, and a smile as he's driving past.
There's our neighborhood association - a group of people who want to see a difference in our neighborhood.
There's our church - a group of like minded believers who want to see Christ make a difference in our city.
Now, there's Merl's - a corner restaurant with an owner who tells me that I eat like a black person.
3 comments:
per minivan post- you are astonished because i am clever or trashy? :)
Jessica, per your minivan post: I am astonished because of minivan. Period. (kinda funny to see my buds in a baby-mobile, that's all) ;-).
Although, it is clever.
i like this post. it makes me like merl too.
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