Thursday, June 9, 2011

La Hacienda

There's this Mexican restaurant right down the street from my girlfriend's house. The food there is great and the service isn't too bad, either. Every time I go, though, I feel a little bad because most of the waiters can't understand a single word we're saying. Their English is terrible. Now this isn't too much of an issue when I'm there, since I just so happen to speak Spanish. But what makes me feel a little uneasy is when my non-Spanish speaking friends decide we should all go. They have absolutely no sympathy for these guys.

(And they wonder why their orders keep getting messed up.)

Wende and I just went there last night, actually. And the waiter is so nice. He and I were talking and, apparently he hates it when a bunch of people come in, get drunk, and completely lose all politeness. Now I understand we're in America and that they should learn the language; but come on, people, cut these guys some slack. It's not easy learning another language, especially English. Needlesstosay, a bunch things get lost in translation.

A group of us are going tonight. And while I love the food and can't wait to eat some nachos, I feel terrible for the waiters. Dealing with a bunch of mid-twenties, white people who seem to think the best way to handle someone who doesn't speak the language is by speaking louder is going to make for an interesting night.

Here goes nothing.

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