A quarter gets you anywhere

So I got kicked out of the apartment, and let me tell you, living alone blows. Hard. To help me save money, my hippie/punk/whatever friend took me through a crash course in frugal living: which shops give a five-finger discount, where to find clothing to last a season, how to buy a suspiciously cheap Swiss gold-plated watch, how to save on public transport (give the guard a quarter, he said: a quarter gets you anywhere) and where to eat.

Now, I don't shoplift, I'm too scared to bribe cops, I have more than enough clothes and watches, but that last tip was really helpful. Because cooking for one person blows. So each day I go to the nearest Italian diner for two slices of Margarita.

Restaurant management tends to hire "ethnic-looking" workers. Of course, no sane Italian or Japanese would work in a cheap diner for $500/month, thus, sushi is served by Vietnamese, Yakut, or Buryat people, and those from the former southern Soviet republics play the roles of Italians (just the right skin tone, you see). While the practice is sorta good - labor laws are retarded, discrimination against the "wrong sort" of foreigners is really severe, thus, working in a diner beats shoveling shit any day of the week - it is still incredibly racist. (Btw: the local branch of McDonalds hires people who fit the most narrow definition of "white".)

I ordered three delicious-looking pizza slices (let's celebrate the glorious holiday of "One week till official payday" with something that isn't Margarita) and the worker lady put them into the oven to heat up.

"So, what are these called?" I asked, quite innocently. The lady (her badge read, "Galia", a common Russian name) looked at me with a very strange expression (sad? tired? annoyed? offended?), "This one is three bux, and this pair is two and a half per slice."

...ohhhh bummer. She thought that I, being a racist fuck, got into my head she was overcharging me for pizza. That sounds crazy, but racist fucks and retards happen (and these two types correlate nicely); I used to work at a mortgage bank, and lots of people asked whether the bank is going to crash (it did eventually). WHY DO YOU CARE IT'S US GIVING YOU MONEY DON'T BE STUPID SHUT UP AND TAKE IT DAMMIT.

I smiled my best smile (which was probably a stupid grin, but it's the thought that counts), "No, I just want to learn the name of the dish so I'd know what to ask for next time - these look real delicious".

She smiled back, radiant, shining, and that was awesome. (I also found out the most delicious pizza EVAR bears the very imaginative and highly descriptive title "Tomato and Cheese", which is why none of you 1.7 people reading this would be able to find out what ambrosia tastes like.)

I looked at her badge again and remembered the pink-haired girl from Subnormality (a waiter who was forced to dye her hair brown and [SPOILER ALERT] magically got her splendid pink mane back as soon as she quit). After sitting at a table so as not to offend the lady, I studied the receipt. It read,"[surname] Umayganat".

The management stole her name. The "equal-opportunity" bastards are not adverse to hiring pretty Dagestani ladies as long as they can kick them out when convenient ("Sick, you say? Healthcare - what healthcare? You're not fit to work with food anymore, get out"), ban tips and steal names.

Also, the management considers customers to be racist retards unable to find Dagestan on a map. But then again, they're probably right.