Happy Birthday, Staci

My youngest sister is named Staci.  She looks like this:

Not a bad drawing, right?  She did it herself (what we, in the biz, refer to as a self-portrait).  Staci, like me, is a drawer.  And her birthday is this week (I think...) so I'm going to go ahead and share, with all of you all, one of my favorite Staci stories...

Staci is small and brown and no one is exactly sure of her racial/ethnic background.

At one point, Staci was working on the wait staff at a fancy hotel.  Most of the people on that staff were Hispanic or Latino.  In the context of a dismissive glance, Staci can totally pass for Hispanic or Latino.  And when you work at a fancy hotel, the majority of glances you receive are dismissive.

One day, a particularly rude guest was harassing the staff for their inability to provide him with directions in English.

Any hotel worth its pillow mints is going to have, on staff,  a concierge; a person whose entire job is to assist guests with things like directions.  This man, apparently, hated speaking with concierges and kept on trying to get help from the wait staff.

Eventually, he got around to Staci...

Are you ready?  This is my favorite part of the story.  Staci looked the man dead in the eye and said:

..and so he stalked off and boiled in the frustration of his first world problems.

Some choose to Creek less, but some... some choose to Creek more.

Cheers (and Happy Birthday, Staci).