Two Sundays ago, after just having returned from two or so weeks of dealing with a pregnancy that had suddenly gone all wrong (but ended in the best possible way), I looked down the line at work tand suddenly realized that all four of us working on the line were white, with me being the oldest by a few years. Of the four of us working that night, 3 went to culinary school.
Service went just fine that night – it was after all a Sunday night, which never really get all that busy. But when it came to cleaning up that night, it took fucking forever. I had my station, or rather stations as the case really was, all cleaned before anyone else was remotely ready to help with the floors. Someone even made the comment that “you really want to go home, don’t you?” Yeah, don’t you?
So I took care of the floors while the other wasted as much time as possible so they wouldn’t have to break a sweat. A week later and I have yet to do the floors by myself, though none of the other white guys have been there to help at the end of the night.