My husband has been in education for almost 30 years. He’s done his time in inner-city schools for below-the-cost-of-living pay, he’s taught 10 classes a day from a cart with 5 minute breaks and 15 minutes for lunch. He’s broken up fights, been called names, and had his heart broken on more occasions than I can count.
But he’s a teacher, an educator. That’s what he signed up for; that’s what he expected.
What he didn’t expect was to be denied the 20 percent educator discount at Cafe Brazil yesterday when we stopped in for a celebratory brunch after the marathon. Apparently, a school business card with his name and title on it (yes, he has those because he’s a department director now) and a drivers license proving he really is who he said he is, just wasn’t proof enough for him to receive that $2 off our bill. Had he been wearing his school lanyard (which, thankfully, he leaves at home on the weekends) he would have qualified.
Really? Really?
Our waitress said it’s because the manager “runs a tight ship.” If that’s the case, I don’t think those are the kind of people I want to go sailing with.
