Yesterday as I finished up my blog, I was reminded of a story from my youth. But there was no time to retell it. So, now you have to read about it today. During the 9th grade my Dad got transferred and we had to move to Lumberton, Tx. I left all of my friends in Nacogdoches. We moved in February. Later that year one of my very good friends families also moved. They moved from Nacogdoches to Temple.
So that summer when we wanted to visit each other the logistics weren't that easily dealt with. But our mothers managed to get us together nevertheless. When all was said and done, my friend, Dana ended up coming to Beaumont on a bus. We picked her up at the bus station which was in a seedy part of Beaumont and after a week, my parents drove both of us to Houston and put us on an Amtrak train that took us to Temple. I then spent a week at Dana's house. My return trip was also on Amtrak. I think we may have done this another summer but I'm not sure. I also recall taking a bus to Temple at least once. But that might have been after we moved to Bay City. I don't recall.
During that first train trip to Temple, I remember being awed by everything going on around me. As a 16 year old I was struck by how old fashioned traveling by train seemed. The train had a dining car and we went there for breakfast. This was my first experience with ordering tea and getting hot water and a tea bag rather than a tall refreshing glass of ice tea. Since then I've always known that when ordering ice tea in unfamiliar surroundings, to add the word "ice" into my order. But I did manage to drink the hot tea with enough milk and sugar added. After all, I didn't want to seem uncouth in my first ever grown up travel experience.
After we had entered the dining car, we found a table and sat down. The tables were sat with white dishes and silverware and there were cloth napkins folded neatly at each place setting. Almost immediately after we took our seats our waiter, a large African-American gentleman came over and greeted us. He's the one who took our drink orders not even bothering to ask if I wanted that tea hot or iced. But that's neither here nor there. A few minutes later, he brought my tea out. I'm sure that Dana had ordered a Coke or something. I don't remember her trying to figure out what to do with teabags. So, I'm pretty sure, she didn't make my same mistake. But as the man brought my tea out, my napkin was still neatly folded on my place setting. He approached with his hands full and paused at my side looked me in the eye an in a very loud and forceful voice said "You-ah NAP-KIN....." I had no idea what he was saying but I could tell by the way he was looking at me that it was directed at me. I'm sure that I gave him a big ol' deer in the headlights look. He stood there with his hands full and then said again, "You-ah NAP-KIN...." Just a little louder. I think I began looking around me to see if I could figure out what "You-ah NAP-KIN...." might mean in english.
Finally, after he had said it three or more times, I looked at my napkin and realized this was what he was talking about. But I still didn't get that he wanted me to remove it from the table and place it on my lap. Hey, I was 16 and from east Texas, don't judge! I don't recall exactly how many times he said it before he finally gave up, put Dana's drink down and then whipped my napkin off of my place setting with a flourish and placed it on my lap. Most people were looking at our table to see who had upset the waiter by the time this had been done. I was mortified. After that, I wasn't all into the dining car anymore. The remainder of the day was very long and by the end of the train ride, we had spent several hours sitting in a corn field just outside of Temple as workers worked to fix some train tracks that had buckled so that we could pass. But I wasn't taken to task by any other waiters.
When I returned to Lumberton, I told my family the story about my napkin. To this day, when we sit at a table with cloth linens in a nice restaurant, someone will usually say, "You-ah NAP-KIN" while staring at someone's napkin across the table. But beyond that, they don't give me a hard time about it.
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