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dear KOGI

a letter to the people at Kogi:
last night around midnight i had the pleasure of my first Kogi truck on Cloverdale off of Wilshire
i was most excited as i had heard a slew of good things
i parked at Detroit, one block shy of the truck
i walked on over with my puppy, Janet
i was on my cell with my boyfriend who was excited at the prospect of indulging his late night thirst
within yards of the truck, there was a drunkard relieving himself
in a less poetic sense, he was urinating/ not only that but he exposed himself to me without an apology
the man at the counter in the truck noticed and apologized with eye contact, i returned the gesture with a small chuckle
the drunkard now done with his business butts in front of me in the line
he orders, i order, i tell the guy at the counter, “I’ll be at the end of the block, if could you wave at me when the food’s ready that would be great”
he says it’ll be 2 minutes
the drunkard says ” whats your fucking problem? are you going to the end of block cause you’re scared of me? you think id mess with someone like you”
i respond “my dog has to relieve herself”
at the end of the block about 8 other customers show, all men
i walk back since its busy/
my food is almost ready, most of it is on the counter waiting to be bagged
the drunkard puts the fingers of his left hand into my order of short rib sliders
i ask in Spanish, my mother tongue, if they can prepare it again because he’s touched my food
they apologize and say of course
this makes the drunkard very angry
he says ” you think i don’t speak Spanish?” now at the top of his lungs “this fucking hoe thinks i don’t speak Spanish”
now talking to the other men ” this fucking bitch just told that guy that i touched her food.” “she’s a dumb piece of shit”
i say “excuse me you did touch my food. and there is no reason to talk about me like that”
now he’s in my face
“you think I’m scared of you?” ” I’ll fuck you up. I’ll kick your fuckin’ dog in the head.” he stomps near my dog. she gets scared.
” i don’t give a shit I’ll fucking punch you, you stupid bitch” now back at the guys, ” you want to start shit/ you want start shit with me?”
he calls to his two friends that have been sitting in the parked Mercedes, one gets out
to me “calm the fuck down”
the drunkard punches the counter
it took everything in me to not cry, everything
i am writing to you because i am appalled that no one had the courage to stand up for me/
i am outraged that your employees would sit back and watch this unfold
but mostly i am sickened that i would be made to feel that way
and i hate to make this about race but I am a black woman in my twenties and i am certain that if I was a white or Asian or a Latin everyman in that situation would have come to my defense
instead all of the men present avoided eye contact, your employees included
i would expect that you would want your employees to treat your customers with a modicum of respect
its basic humanity.
furthermore it is disturbing to me that there were no consequences for this man egregious behavior, instead he was rewarded with his food.
a lift

my father greets me and dutifully shoves my luggage into the trunk
he parks the car in a cross walk which really angers a white man
he is in his early forties.
he wears the type of glasses the government gives you for free
except his are expensive.
The Highway
me: you cant drive in the middle of the road-
dad: okay.
Left Lane
me: you cant drive this slow on the highway.
dad: whats the speed limit?
me: i don’t know but it isn’t 30.
3 Cars pass
mom: 50.
Middle lane, an improvement
dad: i missed the exit.
me: want to get off and turn back.
dad: no i can take the next one.
beat
dad: i missed it again.
Driving head on towards a median
me: do you want me to drive?
mom/dad: no.
dad: i cant see at night.
me: where are your glasses?
mom: he left them at home.
me. well why don’t you drive?
mom: I’ll drive when it is my time to drive.
Silence









