Tony
Google
What do you do when a place that feels welcoming on the surface quietly tells you that people like you aren’t truly welcome?
As a Mexican American, I’ve lived in Bakersfield long enough to know which local gems carry heart — and 24th Street Café seemed like one of them. Great food. A nostalgic atmosphere. Friendly service. I was seriously considering bringing my family and friends here for a big Fourth of July brunch. I wanted to support local and celebrate in a space that felt classic and rooted in community.
But that all changed the moment I stepped into the restroom and saw a sign on the wall written only in Spanish:
“No orine o miccione fuera de la taza.”
(Translation: “Do not urinate or defecate outside the toilet.”)
There was no English version posted — no balance, no effort to deliver the message universally. Just a warning directed in one direction, toward one group.
Let that sink in: a message about bathroom cleanliness, directed only at Spanish speakers.
That kind of selective messaging might seem minor to some — but to many of us, it’s a gut-punch. A quiet signal that says: “We expect less from you. We assume the worst from you.”
I brought this up respectfully to a waitress after complimenting the meal and sharing my excitement about returning with loved ones. She had agreed to be recorded, and at first, the conversation was warm and easy. But the moment I brought up the sign, everything shifted. Her expression tightened, her answers became vague, and within seconds she ended the conversation and walked away — recording and all.
It was disheartening. Not because I expected a confrontation, but because I hoped for curiosity, empathy — some recognition that what I saw might feel wrong to someone like me.
I won’t be returning. And I chose not to bring my family here for Independence Day — because if a place doesn’t feel like it honors all Americans equally, how can I celebrate there?
This review isn’t an attack. It’s a call to awareness.
To anyone reading: language matters. Messages matter. Silence matters. And we all have the right to expect dignity — even in the smallest details, even in the restroom.