Just Say No to Chili's

I lost my temper over the Thanksgiving Holiday. It happened unexpectedly and quickly. Late Sunday afternoon, we were in the San Diego Airport returning to Denver. Our flight was delayed for a couple of hours due to mechanical problems. But as I told my son-in-law, you learn to accept inconvenience when traveling. Otherwise the petty frustrations will take years off your life from induced stress. As it turns out, those were fateful words.

We decided to slip into the Chili's Restaurant at the airport for some food and drink. Finding a table we chatted amiably until the server made her way to our table. Asking for drinks, she took our orders for the art of the bremaster. As expected, she asked my son and son-in-law for their ID's. And then it happened.

She asked for my ID. Caught off guard, I looked back at her with a question in my eyes; and I am sure a look of pure evil. I got back a very determined and no nonsense look. Feeling my blood pressure rapidly to a dangerous level, I took my driver's license out with a decided lack of grace. Reacting to the new chill in the air, the server took great care in looking over my license. This was now a game of power and the victor would leave no doubt as to who won. While I had not raised my voice or thrown any tableware, my family was noticeably silent for some moments after the exchange. The contest had not gone unobserved.

But why did I get so mad so fast over such a trivial incident? Just to satisfy your morbid curiosity, I would be enormously flattered if anyone mistook me for under 50, let alone under 21. What little hair I have is gray, and there is more than a trace in my face of past laughter. Obviously I hadn't taken my own advice about letting petty frustration roll off your back. This was the definition of petty, and it had definitely not rolled off my back.

But where do we draw the line? Requiring me to prove my age to get a beer is silly. Mindless is the word I used with my family at the time. My age is so far past the legal drinking age that it is obvious. It is mindless and it is also petty.

And it occurred in that modern epitome of both the mindless and the petty, an airport. How many times have you watched as an elderly lady has her dignity removed while strangers watch during a "random" search of her person as we pass through Security? How many times have I discovered holes in the socks of my fellow passengers? Large signs threaten us with jail for comedy, as we, mindless robots with straight faces look straight ahead and mechanically thank the uniforms who wish us a nice day.

The outrage I feel is not for the reasons for which we engage in this mindlessness. It is because of the very banality of it. It is banal and we stand helpless as individuals before it. Fear of assault in the courts over perceived injustice or unjust discrimination has caused managers to take decision making from the hands of their employees. And they are sensible in doing so. Any prudent manager will decide that it is better to have a million embarrassed grandmothers or angry old beer drinkers than an ACLU lawsuit over discriminatory profiling.

I understand why we do what we do. And I do not say that I have a better idea. But I must protest. I must hurl my defiance in the face of "The Man". I must let some small part of the world know that I am a man, and I will fight if pushed far enough. Thus I declare to the world that I will take action. I will fight back.

I will say no to Chili's. I will take my business elsewhere. I declare that I will never enter a Chili's Restaurant again.