Jean Fortune was thirsty. So, like many of us, he stopped by his local Burger King to get a nice, cold lemonade. All was going swimmingly until the rude BK employee told Jean, “I am sorry, we are out of lemonade”.
Now Jean might be a lot of things but he is no fool. Clearly, this was a case of racial profiling. Because he is from Haiti, the BK employee made the snap decision not to serve him based on the color of his skin. How else could you possibly explain it? Do you think a major metropolitan Burger King actually just “ran out” of lemonade? Puh-leeze.
Not accepting this ridiculous answer, Jean promptly called 911. He would not be denied his nutritious, thirst quenching lemonade! Not surprisingly, the 911 operator quickly identified Jean’s Haitian accent and promptly began to give him the run around. She suggested to Jean that calling 911 was not an appropriate response to being told you can’t have any lemonade. Would she have made such a comment to a brother or whitey? I sincerely doubt it.
Worse still, she spent probably 5 more minutes chastising poor Jean about how he should have never called because it is a non emergency and ties up the 911 system. Here’s a thought sweetheart, hang up the damned phone! Don’t send a cruiser, don’t berate the poor guy, just tell him nicely you can’t help him and hang up. Problem solved.
A police unit finally responded and, big surprise here, sided with Burger King. Just another example of “the man” keeping my Haitian brother down. Not to worry, Jean. Chick-Fil-A is more than happy to have your business and serve you even better tasting lemonade. And to you people at the Boynton Beach Burger King, you can stick your lemonade where the sun don’t shine. Damned racists.
One last fast food point. I was behind an elderly gentleman at the drive through today. I am so proud of the fact that I did not leap from my vehicle, pull him from his car, and promptly beat what remaining life he has out of him. Hint to old people: if it going to take you an honest to God five minutes to place an order, whip out your walker and stumble inside. You are killing the rest of us. Ciao.
(If you would like to hear the sordid 911 call, just click the link below. Prepare to sob uncontrollably.)
EDIT: For some reason, I kept calling Jean, George. (Maybe George is really Jean in Haitian or….I am drunk again)