my first Karen
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
My wife and daughter walked into a bakery in our area today to find that no fewer than three staff were helping an extremely rude and demanding woman who insisted that she must be served immediately and to her satisfaction and that she didn't have time to wait. She then proceeded to sit in the bakery with whatever she'd been served. The staff were miserable, she was awful, and our dear daughter told her mother (in English), "It's my first Karen!"
This reminds me of our son's first Karen, or rather Ken, who was an angry British sixty-year-old who was incensed that the staff at the jerk chicken place under The Bay in downtown Toronto were using their hands to handle the money and the food. I guess his point, poorly delivered, was that they were doing it without gloves or something. I'm not sure that was a widespread thing in 2011. He wouldn't shut up about it even after he'd been served, and seemed to be about to demand to speak to the manager. It was well after the work day, and I knew that wasn't going to work so I was glad when the staffer somehow wiggled off the hook.
In Toronto you can also see a reverse Karen, where it's the people behind the counter who have a meltdown. I was once walking into another Caribbean place around 2003, possibly at Church and Carlton, when an Asian-Caribbean woman behind the counter so enraged a Black customer that he stormed out shouting something about, "What happened to the customer is always right?" I was in no mood for horseshit myself and u-turned out of the place. Another time, possibly around 2013, we were heading into a Greek place on the Danforth and an Asian-Canadian couple was just storming out. The male was so pissed he told them, "You're lucky my girlfriend is here." I've been refused service altogether at a food festival and a pawn shop in Toronto, now that I think about it. In the latter case I think the guy thought I was a cop, but I'm not sure whether that makes more or less sense.
Anyway, bless our daughter. Can't help but wonder if the almost-full moon is a factor.