Frigging Gluttons

This weekend my community association threw our annual BBQ. Normally it’s a pleasant bit of community socializing: the kids run around, jump on the bouncy thing, throw frisbees, and play drums. Happy people chow down on grilled food: hamburgers, veggie burgers, salmon. We feast, we enjoy ourselves, and us organizers all pat ourselves on the back for a job well done.

But not this year.

It started with the delivery of pre-sliced fruit and vegetables. Melons looked extremely round for being pre-sliced, and at first I wondered if we had ordered some newfangled GMO melon with a quick-zip function enabling one quick knock to let it fall into perfectly sliced wedges. Turned out my fanciful daydreaming was just that, and I had to whip out my trusty chef’s knife instead to tackle oranges, onions, and other ovals. Some folks take life’s little lemons and make lemonade; I took a pile of lemons and created an attractive display worthy of Martha Stewart.

Other chefs fired up the coals, popped open the tops of ketchup, unscrewed pickle jars, and started laying drinks on ice. Burgers are laid on the grills, and the tantalizing odor of freshly cooked BBQ wafts through the air.

Which was apparently too much for your self-control, assholes.

I walked out of the kitchen holding my fruit tray, and I didn’t even make it to the table before it was gone. Gone! I can’t even begin to tell you how many hands and feet smashed into this bowl I was carrying. A lesser man would have dropped the fruit and run screaming, but I think I was stunned into incredulity. All I can remember is blur of hands and feet that looked like a Jackie Chan film in fast-forward flashing past my eyes.
10 minutes slicing fruit, and it vanished in 10 seconds.

Empty-handed, I retreated to the kitchen to regroup, and venture forth once more into the chaos. It was worse than 'Nam.

A buzzing, whirring swarm of people surrounded the condiments table. I didn’t think that the burgers had started cooking that long ago, and I was right. Two dozen people were stacking their plates with tomatoes, onions, and then squirting mustard on top, with nary a burger or bun in sight.

I saw one man empty a jar of relish on his plate. He then grabbed his fork and started to dig in. This wasn’t coleslaw, this wasn’t a couple of pickles, this was green relish available in little impossible to open packets at greasy spoons around North America, and this mouth was shovelling it in like he’d found a golden trough of liquid ecstasy.

The coolers were empty, except for some stray tomato slices that must have fallen out of someone’s mouth in a mad rush to grab something that was only lukewarm because they hadn’t been in ice for more than 5 minutes. “I am not bringing out more drinks for these heathens,” I thought.

But the real battle was around the grills. Lineups of hungry beggars stretched to the horizon. Choking clouds of dense smoke couldn’t drive them back from their goal, and it actually seemed to inspire some assailants to dubious heights of courage. I spotted one little old chinese lady sidling up to the grill, and when the chef’s eyes were blinded by tears she lashed out with a wrinkled, fireproof hand, clutched a medium rare hamburger to her bosom and scampered off at a quick hobble on arthritic knees.

And then came a cry that curdled my blood “Where’s the bread?”
“What,” I said.
“I would like some bread,” said someone with heavily accented English.
“Well, wait in line and you’ll get a bun with your burger.”
“No, there no more bread,” said this vagrant, and he was right. The cases of buns were gone, vanished, on the lam. I asked one of the chefs what happened to the buns, and he looked down.

“Holyshitwhathappenedtothebuns! Wheredtheygo! There was two dozen bags right at my feet when I put down this line of burgers, and now there’s nothing. Nothing!”

That’s when I spotted people running away with bags of buns like they were bags of money that fell from an armoured truck. One blink, and they vanished into the crowd.

It was madness. Families were scarfing down dry buns, and complaining that they didn’t have a burger. Families eating burgers without any buns, sending up a cry of “where’s bread? Can we have bread?”. Toddlers stoned on a diet of relish, onions, and mustard, zooming around like mobile fart machines. Wizened matriarchs stuffing cans of soda up their shirts and trying to walk nonchalantly home.

And through all of these, my neighbours are screaming at me demanding more food. More free food, I should add. People coming up to me and screaming in a language I normally don’t understand that I’m an idiot. People coming up to me and screaming that they want more, more, MORE. Children pleading with me for a popsicle, and all I can see is some grandfather who snagged two boxes and is holding them above his head while he wades his way through a crowd of teary-eyed children.

Where the hell were all you old people coming from anyway? This is a housing block that is owned by the university, and it’s designated for students and their children. I’m no expert in demographics, but last time I checked the average student was under 40. One third of the people I saw were retirement age.

And the scams you tried to get more food. “Please please,” said the elderly woman in the sari. “I’ve been waiting so long to get five burgers for my family.” Then 10 minutes later you’ve shoved your way to the front of the veggie burger line, and you’re saying the exact same thing!.

Did I mention the entertainment? The children waiting to bounce around a big inflatable tent? And the parents screaming expletives because their 10-year-olds aren’t allowed in with toddlers? How about the drum circle that happened indoors, and the parents who encouraged their children to try walking off with $300 drums.

Stealing from musicians, that’s always nice. Because if there’s one group in society that has more money than university students, it’s musicians.

I like my neighbourhood. I like meeting people who literally are from around the world. I like volunteering my time to produce a newsletter, and help out at these events.

But this was too much. The nice, orderly people who waited in lines, and encouraged others to wait in line, were trampled where they stood. Those who obeyed the one-drink, one-burger rule were left hungry, while those who demonstrated a complete lack of the manners that are expected in this society made this a miserable afternoon for everyone.

And what I found totally, absolutely bizarre, was that for the first time in my life I noticed a racial distinction between how people acted. I have always been colour-blind. I grew up in a multi-cultural neighbourhood. Had lunch with the Indian kid next door every chance I could because your mom’s cooking was better than my mom’s. Played soccer with the French kid next door who barely spoke English. Wrote and performed a play with the black kid in class about the battle between Mr. T and Droopy. Ran for the bus too many times to count with the Sri Lankan. Traded comics with the Chinese kids.

But this weekend, all those civilizing aspects broke down completely along racial lines.

So here’s my rant.

Fuck you for making me feel like a racist.
Fuck you, because every time I pass you in the hallways I will think about how you took advantage of my goodwill in order to stuff your face.
Fuck you, because I will now faced by lingering clouds of guilt and wonder if everyone who immigrates from your country is like you, or if you’re just a complete fuckwad.
Fuck you, because I’m the son of immigrants, who work hard and do their best to make their home and their community a better place, and I was doing my best to continue that legacy, and you give all immigrants a bad name.
Fuck you, because next time I hear some asshole utter some racist comment I might let it slide, or even agree with it, when until now I’ve never let a racial slur go by without condemning it, no matter the source, and more than once had to back up my views towards tolerance with a jab to the solar plexus.

I hope you all die from a gut-busting explosion induced by hemorrhagic bacteria.

Do you think it was crashed by some selfish people who happened to hear about it? I don’t know what ethnic group you’re slurring, but could it be that it was the same ethnic group that caused problems because they happened to all know each other and crashed?

Just a thought.

Bummer. Sucks doin’ somethin’ for people who don’t appreciate it.

That really sucks.

I know how you feel, though my story doesn’t involve the racial or ethnic divide you noticed. See, every year my friends and I do the NYC AIDS Walk. Throughout the walk there are stations set up with juice, ice cream, fun little freebies for the walkers. At the end, there are tables in Central Park with loads of snacks (all of it’s donated) for those who have completed the walk, volunteered their time to set it up and register people, etc. There’s enough so that everyone can get something-- a bag of Cheez-its, a Ben & Jerry’s bar, some fresh fruit, what have you.

Except, of course, that this “some for all” balance is thrown off by the fucking gluttons who pack up boxes and bags full of everything they can get their hands on. I have seen people exiting the park with entire cases of ice cream, whole cartons of cookies or chips, entire bunches of bananas, much like your example of the guy taking the popsicles. I’m not even sure all of them had anything to do with the Walk. Yeah, it’s fun to get your free snack, even one of each kind, but what the hell is wrong with you, that makes you think it’s ok to take so much stuff that you’re having trouble carting your loot out of the park?

It reminds me of your story because of the sheer abuse of the generosity of others that it involves. Oooh, free food? Meant to be shared by lots of people? Lemme take a dozen! Sucks for anybody who can’t move as fast as me!

Geez, sorry to hear about the mob action at your place. I’m almost certain this is abberant behavior for foreign nationals, but with that many people (the whole neighborhood did you say?) I guess anything’s possible, including bun-induced pandemonium.

That really sucks. I mean, here you are trying to do something nice for/with your neighbors, and these selfish jerks have to go and ruin it for everyone. Let’s hope it was at least gate crashers, and not the neigborhood folk, who caused the problem. I would suffer long term seething anger if I had to run into the guy who stole the popsicles every time I walked around the block; at least with a stranger, I wouldn’t have to think about it with any frequency.

The only solutions I can think of for next time (should there be a next time) are pre-printed ID cards distributed to invitees, and police barricades. Other than that one incident, your neighborhood sounds like a really great place to live. Me, I’m stuck in boring crackerville, and we never have community activities. Just as well, I guess.

um…wow. :eek:

I grew up in a small town with very little racial diversity and I have seen this type of behavior as well, suggesting there may be more factors for this type of mob behavior than just ethnic background.

This makes me sick. I hate stories like this, because it reminds me that the world I live in is a “Get away with whatever you can get away with” world. Once people start acting this way, it just escalates, because the people that tried to play nice got screwed, so next time they have the opportunity, they just might screw someone else. And so on, and so on. The nice people (like yourself, Barbarian - ironic name, BTW) try to do something nice for the unwashed masses, and it turns into the free-for-all you witnessed. And now I suspect you won’t be quite as eager to do nice things for nasty people anymore, either. I just hate living in a world like this.

I don’t think ethnic background has anything to do with it. It’s the American Mindset of ME! ME! ME! and more,more,more. As a sales secretary, I often had to arrange lunches for our clients. These were always buffet type affairs for people who made lots of money. Yet there were always those who stuffed extra in their purses, or asked for bags, or wanted me to make up an extra plate that they could take home. The office employees were not invited because they would scarf up any and all food before the clients, but then they complained so loudly we had to double our budget for food. Long story short, we stopped having food at the office for clients, and took them out instead.

I once worked with a guy who stuffed his pockets full of cookies to take home to his family during a charity awards banquet. Some people didn’t get any cookies.

Parents, teach your children to share.

My sympathies. I’ve seen the same thing time and time again – the greedy minority ruin it for everyone. Or worse, the mob mentality of “Gimme, gimme, gimme!” takes over and EVERYONE turns into pigs.

Example: Every year there is a Woman’s Convention in town. Various vendors attend, to give out samples of their products. Each year I attended, the crush was tremendous, as women grabbed everything they could get their hands on. Most were polite about it, taking one sample per person, but even then there was a “gimme!” attitude. The rest, who grabbed as much as they could, were even worse. What shames me is that I bought into the same thing – just taking my sample, moving down the line and getting the next sample, etc. I was no better than they were, and looking back, I was also bound and determined NOT to miss ANYTHING FREE that I could get.

God help us all.

One of the best rants I’ve ever read in the Pit. I always find it morbidly fascinating when I hear about humanity regressing into feral parasites.

It makes me think----we should all be better than this, right?

But a lot of us aren’t.

You’re not racist. You’re simply intolerant of assholes. It so happened that a large majority of the people you encountered who were assholes happened to be of the same race.

In some way, somewhere, you will be rewarded for your patience, and for the abuse you suffered. And those people will probably get 'roids. At least we can all hope.

b.

sorry for the hijack:
I hate to do this really but I’d have to agree.

Over the past couple of summers I’ve worked as a waiter at different resturants. I’m sure you know this from another Pit thread. Anyhoo, I’ve noticed that a majority of people of races, other than white people, don’t tip well. Maybe they just don’t know what a good tip is, but when I stay an hour after the place is closed and you’re still munching on your all-you-can-eat lobster, with a $80 tab and then you leave me $2!!? The servers warned me about this trend when I started at my first wait job and when I moved a 1,000 miles away, immigrants had the same reputation there too. I tried to ignore it at first but after it happened over and over, and my friends and I got stiffed a couple of times I just gave up. I don’t understand.

I’m not sure how much sense this made, I just rode a good 50 miles in the blistering heat so I’m kinda out of it. Sorry for the hijack and I really don’t consider myself racist by any means.

People suck, but people in large groups suck worse because they think they can get away with more.

Incidentally, for what it’s worth, your tale of woe reminded me of how a couple of guests stole a few bottles of champagne and some disposable cameras from my goddamn wedding.

That is all.

To the OP: Am I to understand that you would now sympathize with racist beliefs due to your experience? Yes, it sucks mightily, and yes, I commiserate, but I would hate to think that it would cause you to let blatant racism or injustice happen…

In other words, don’t hate me for what a thoughtless git with some common racial ancestry did. :slight_smile:

(Yes, I know that’s not what you were saying at all; just a joke.)

Thanks for the sympathy.

Clucky and others. Nah, they were my neighbours, not gate crashers. I live in student housing at the University of British Columbia which is by nature highly transient. I think the average stay in my neighbourhood is about 2 years, but there are some folks who stay much longer (the longest I know of is 8 years).

Cervaise Stealing champagne and cameras from a wedding is horrible. I can only hope they belong to your other half’s family :slight_smile:

cykrider I hate lousy tippers too. Not sure if you’re a lousy tipper? Try this rule of thumb: Double the first number. If the meal cost anywhere from 10 to 19 dollars, leave a $2 tip. 30 to 39 dollar tab? Then your tip is $6.
When you start getting over $100, that’s the number of twenties you should be leaving on the table.

Ashtar Thanks for the compliment! I think that just made my rarely used sig list.

Lyllyan I live in Canada. Greed is Universal!

I’m still bummed though. But I think I can serve my revenge cold; I edit the community newsletter Bwahahahaaha!

Me, me, me… looking out of number one, whatever you want to call it. Try to remember that living well is the best revenge. All you can do is to lead by example. Cold consolation, I’m sure, but not much else presents itself as a viable alternative.

Bloodyminded scumbags like the imbeciles you described lead fairly miserable, grasping lives (as you sadly had to witness). Try and not descend to their level, you’ll be glad that you didn’t. Solutions? Numbered wristbands, food tickets, more volunteers, an indoor venue that can be better regulated, line monitors and welcome to the police state.

Allowing yourself to succumb to racist sentiments is to let those who ruined your party win. They will be ever more encouraged to hide behind the skirts of presupposed and nonexistent bigotry as a way to justify their brutish behavior.

H-E-Double-Toothpicks, I’ve witnessed this sort of behavior at my own private dinner parties. I can only remember one time out of the hundreds of parties that I’ve thrown when one of my guests came back into the kitchen to hand yours truly a plate of mixed appetizers that I had served.

More often than not, I have finally emerged with the beginning courses only to find all of the marinated artichoke hearts, cocktail sausages, triple cream Brie and cold cuts gone. This usually leaves me with an assortment of pickles, olives and celery to whet my appetite upon. Oh joy!

Is it any wonder that out of all those “guests” (quotation marks courtesy of Fenris), the person I mentioned above (ParadygmShift at these boards) is the only one who is still invited into my house so many years later?

Hang in there Barbarian, you were obviously surrounded by others who took your username to heart much more than you ever did.

You’ve thrown hundreds of parties? Who are you - Hugh Hefner?

I see this kinda stuff once in a while too, we have warehouse sales 2 times a year where we invite the public in. IT was over 100 deg and we wanted to make it a little nicer so we got some big tubs and iced down some generic sodas from the store (like $.99 a 6 pack stuff) We intercepted one customer and asked her to put them back when she loaded up six six-packs that were sitting behind the tubs waiting for room. She looked at us like we were complete jerks and stomped out mumbling profanities about us. Scary part is, this was an elementary school teacher. I just pray she teaches a little better behavior in her classroom.

[disclaimer] I do not consider this woman to be a typical teacher but a rather piss poor example of one.[/disclaimer]

Note to kitchen for future parties:

More marinated artichoke hearts, cocktail sausages, triple cream Brie and cold cuts

Fewer pickles, olives and celery

Brilliant rant… one of the best I’ve ever read. I laughed, I cried, I craved a salty burger.

Sorry to hear of the depraved opportunists. Hell is other people (particularly whilst ravenous).