Pancake Flip!

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This past Saturday, I took my grandson to the International House of Pancakes. It's kind of a tradition with me. I took his mother there on many-a-Saturday when she was a little girl. When I met my wife, that was one of the first places we went to eat breakfast. And, even before they were in my life, me and my best friend would meet and eat breakfast there on Saturdays (we still do to this day, just not as often).

The IHOP that we usually go to was built and opened the year after I was born and is located in the section of Philadelphia that I call home. It is now managed by Arabs and most of the cooks and waitresses are African-American, West African, and Jamaican. It's located near the city limits so, it services a lot of white customers who are just coming into the city. It's just my spot.

Some of my friends have often kidded me about still going to the "hood IHOP", as they call it. They have mentioned that there are several in the nearby suburbs of Philly that are bigger, cleaner, and have better service. What they really mean is... they are managed and worked by white people. I don't know what is worse sometimes... black middle class self-hatred or black middle-class vanity. You see, the prices are also a little higher out in the 'burbs too.

So, I decided to patronize one of these suburban establishments with my little man in tow. It was a beautiful establishment, very clean, modern (it was wifi accessible), and a lot of young whites and blacks had their laptops hooked up and were chatting and texting while waiting for their pancakes. I think I'm as hip as the next guy... maybe I'm not. But, when I'm ready to get my grub on, I don't need to call anybody, text anybody, or even write a blog post. All that can wait until I'm finished eating. I am not impressed by a wifi accessible IHOP.

The manager was indeed white but, all of the guys in the kitchen flipping pancakes, frying eggs, making hash browns were… (drumroll please) … African-American. The waiters and waitresses were a mixture of both black and white with an equal number of males and females. We sat down and a pretty, young black waitress got me a high chair, crayons, and a paper with nice pictures for coloring to keep my grandson occupied. Then the trouble started.

My waiter was a brother who looked like R&B singer Babyface used to look back in the 80's, when he had his curly 'fro. He had on a crisp, neatly creased white shirt and tight black khaki pants. He was just a tad effeminate but, I couldn't care less... I just wanted to eat. He asked, "Can ah take your order?" I ordered a short stack of pancakes, hash browns, sausage, coffee, orange juice, and an apple juice for the little man.

About 30 minutes went by and nothing. Meanwhile, I see my waiter chatting and laughing with all of the girls who come in, complimenting them on their hair ("Girl, you is fierce!") and their clothes. He finally comes up to me and asks again, "Can ah take your order?" I was incredulous. I said, "I gave you my order a half hour ago!" He snapped and said, "I would have remembered if you had given me your order... I do this for a living, you know." I said, "Whatever, man." And, I gave him my order again.

Another 30 minutes went by and he's still laughing and talking. He brings me the pancakes and the sausage. No orange juice, no coffee (But, he did bring the cup!), no apple juice, no utensils, and no napkins. Ten minutes go by... nothing. Finally, I stopped him and told him that our food is getting cold. He brings syrup. I then ask him, "What are we supposed to eat with?" By this time, my grandson has gotten bored with the crayons and coloring and has syrup all over him. I ask for some napkins and he gives me one... one napkin! At this point, I think that this is a gag and that Ashton Kutcher is going to come out of the bathroom and say, "You just got punked!" But, there was no Ashton... no MTV crew... and I'm beyond furious.

I grabbed my little man and I asked for the bill. The waiter has the nerve to tell me where to put the tip on the bill. I looked at him like he was crazy and said, "I'm not giving you a tip... your service was horrible!" A white man who witnessed the whole thing smiled and just shook his head. The brothers in the kitchen started laughing. My waiter then said, "Hmmmph, well I'd appreciate it if you would not come in this establishment anymore." One of the sisters (waitress) said to him, "You can't say that to a customer!" He got mad and said, "Well, I don't have to take this... I've had a very rough morning and I won't let him steal my JOY!" Then, he stormed off. The brothers in the kitchen were roaring at this point.

Now, I confess... had it been someone else, I would've been on the floor laughing but, it was me and it definitely was not funny. I called the manager, told him what happened, and said, "I'm not paying for this kind of service!" He said he understood and he gave me a store credit towards another meal. Guess where I'll be using it? In my good old "hood IHOP", where I feel at home and where I get good service... even if it's not wifi accessible!