Last night, I had the pleasure of attending a comedy show benefit for the striking writers of E! Network's 'Fashion Police' with a group of friends. The night was hysterical and there will be more to follow if I can find some of the clips from the evening this week. The evening was held at West Hollywood's famous 'Laugh Factory', and two overpriced Jameson-on-the-rocks later, as the show ended, we decided to grab a bite across the street on Sunset.
8000 Sunset is a shopping mall of doom, or at least it was when I first arrived in Los Angeles 4.5 years ago. There was a high-end gym in this West Hollywood shopping complex, along with a Starbucks, but otherwise resided as a bit of a ghost-town. It's been a while since I've been there. As we approached last night, the scene was booming. Gays filled the outdoor seating areas and now this place was filled with high-end shops and restaurants. This place had been catered to us gays and was now filled seat to seat with us! Once gays fill your establishment, the money tends to roll in. Simple statistics, people. I turned to my friend Drew, in astonished excitement: "When ever did this happen??" To which Drew responded: "Honey, you know how the gays love to plant a seed..."
In truth, that was a foul joke for those who got it. For those who didn't, sorry about it.
We approached 'Sushi Dan' by my friend Hank's suggestion. Drew and Hank are boyfriends, living in gay bliss just like any other lesbian couple. As we entered 'Sushi Dan', I was a bit discouraged as no one seemed to want to introduce me to Dan. Who was this elusive Dan?? And however did HE find his way into the title of 'Sushi Dan'?? I'm sure it's a great story. Drew and Hank didn't think so. Bleh.
As we were seated at a corner booth in the back, we began to peruse the menu. It was later into the evening, sometime past ten at this point. The restaurant was lightly filled, but edging towards closing. It was that 'last call' feeling, which is always warm and inviting to begin a meal with...
Shortly after placing our orders an Israeli couple was seated in the booth behind my head. I didn't see their faces, but I know Hebrew when I hear it and their accents were dead giveaways. Having grown up an Orthodox Jew, I've encountered many Jews over the years and many Israelis for that matter. Israelis around here are a special breed, filled with classic LA pretension, matched with aggressive Middle Eastern accents, and the lack of ability to speak in English when encountering non-Hebrew individuals. It's like a secret language to those outside the fold and therefore is spoken in higher frequency when said people interact with them.
As the waitress approached their table, the Israeli couple behind me began to speak in Hebrew. Louder and louder as the waitress began to greet them, it was a clear statement to her and the rest of the restaurant: "You won't interrupt us!" After a few minutes of ignoring her attempts to greet them, the couple translated words to English and began to order. "Two of this. Is it good?? And two of that. And we'll have four spicy tuna rolls, but can you make them spicy?? And..." There were two of them and yet they were ordering more fish than Queen Latifah's "allegedly" scored in a lifetime. I sat there, giggling at the pretension and nonsensical nature of their order. As the waitress left their table, menus in hand, they began referring to her in Hebrew as a "Zona". "Zona" is a Hebrew word more easily translated, simply as: Whore. Or prostitute. But you get the idea. They were mocking her in Hebrew as the simple whore. I found them ridiculous, yet unaware of how ridiculous they came off. The waitress may have been mocked by you two, but do you think the rest of the restaurant isn't laughing at your sheer ridiculousness?? Clearly not.
Then the food came and I realized I spoke too soon. They finished everything on all twelve of their plates. They must have just survived a famine. Who was I to judge? Perhaps they just came from a foreign land filled with whores devoid of any and all seafood. How could I have misjudged? They were not entitled, wealthy, pretentious foreigners, but rather the survivors of a plane crash to the land of whores. This is one of many reasons why I never judge people. Ever. (Well... sometimes...)
As the waitress came to clear their plates, my ears caught wind:
"There was a hair in my food," claimed the young lady in her thick accent.
"Which dish? you've finished them all..." replied the waitress.
"There was hair in our food. This is unacceptable. What are you going to do about it??" replied her man.
"Would you like me to order you another dish - on the house?" asked the waitress.
To which the man and lady replied simultaneously: "NO!"
With that, the waitress snuck away. Speaking for myself, having grown up a Jew, I can understand where the stereotype comes from with Jews. All it takes is one person with a thick accent and obvious place of origin to build a stereotype. Myself, I'm not cheap, just broke. There's a difference when there's a minus sign on your bank account. **collective sigh**
The waitress came back, having cleared most of their bill from the check. As she explained the updated bill, I heard the gentleman mutter "zona" under his breath once more. As this is all happening, Drew, Hank, and myself have all gained wind of the situation and began mocking their ridiculous actions.
As the waitress checked back with us, Hank announced: "There was a thumb in my food." To which Drew and I simultaneously exclaimed: "Mine too!" To which the waitress, let out a giggle and explained: "Those are my thumbs. All three of them." Hopefully we brightened her night, because she sure gave us a laugh.
Thoughts or Opinions?
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