Kay Cee
Google
This bar deeply disappointed me. About a year ago, I experienced what felt like blatant racism and discrimination after supporting this neighborhood bar for years so much so that I would regularly promote it to others as if it were my own.
One night, I brought a visiting friend and told them how great it was for meeting new people. When we arrived, I asked the bartender to surprise me with something creative. He rolled his eyes at me. After he delivered the drink and walked away, I tried to get his attention to compliment it and suggest they add it to the menu. He responded by saying, “You need to calm down, or else.” I was stunned and stayed quiet while my friend started talking to a nearby group. I wasn’t interacting with anyone else.
Later, my friend mentioned I shared a zodiac sign with someone, called my name, and I responded excitedly with a quick “OMG, hey!” At that moment, the bartender pointed at me and said, “That’s it you’re out.” I calmly responded that I’d get my things and leave, but before I could, he rushed out from behind the bar and physically shoved me toward the door. I barely stayed on my feet.
Outside, I was hurt and confused. I approached a staff member someone I had a complicated past with to try and explain the situation and ask for help retrieving my things. He shouted at me to leave and refused to engage. I only tried talking to him because the bouncer was ignoring me, my belongings were still inside, and I couldn’t reach my friend.
That night was supposed to be a joyful one a celebration of life and of overcoming so much. Instead, it spiraled into chaos. Staff accused us of actions we didn’t commit, and although things got tense, all legal charges against me were eventually dropped.
I acknowledge that my behavior outside the bar could have been better I own that. But I’ve always been told, “Never wrestle with pigs. You get dirty, and the pig likes it.” This experience left me deeply hurt, and while I’ve tried to move on, the way I was treated still lingers.