Vanilla
McDonald's Restaurant
Havre d'Grace, MD
August 2016
I buy a cup of coffee from McDonald's almost every day. It's only a buck. It's consistent and sometimes I go there just to find a quiet place to write. So I tend to spend more time in McDonald's than I would like to admit.
The wait staff is mostly young and not very interested in me. So I try to be annoying and chat them up every time I can. The young woman waiting on me today has a name tag, "Vanilla." My first assumption is she is trying to be clever and promote this new shake drink or something.
"Is your mane really Vanilla?", I ask her.
"Yea, it is. Isn't that a bit of irony," she retorts with a tone of glee.
I don't get the irony so I confess, "What irony?"
"I'm black and my mother named me Vanilla. she thought she was so funny", she laughs and brings me my coffee.
I laugh too because I didn't see this irony but now it is glaring me in the face. I tell her that my name is Chocolate.
She laughs and tells me, "We call my brother Chocolate."
With that bit of news, I give up on trying to trump her with a funny retort. I take my coffee and find a table and keep to myself for the rest of this visit.
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