After all, the questions asked and the specials listed were strictly addressed to me while he was not even acknowledged. I was jarred as I quickly learned that my point of view was truly one-sided, as what I was saw as polite service, he experienced as a fundamental and continual disrespect.
Unsure what 'it' was, he began to explain that the wait staff was completely ignoring his existence, just like in every other restaurant we had gone to before. My face fell as he sadly declared that 'it' was happening again. I was dumbfounded and asked what was wrong. When I looked up from the menu smiling I saw that my boyfriend was totally ticked. After listing the specials and pointing out some exceptional bottles of wine, she stepped away to give us a minute to choose. As we entered, the hostess, who was white, asked how many people were in our party, to which I replied, and proceeded to sit us at a table by the window where the waitress, who happened to be white, promptly handed me our menus and asked if we wanted a drink. One evening not so long into our courtship, my fiancé and I went to a hipster restaurant located in a progressive Brooklyn neighborhood for dinner.