In Austin, there is The Domain: Northside, with the anticipation of The Domain: Riverside. In Los Angeles, Rodeo Drive is a huge attraction, even though it is relatively short. In New York, 5th Avenue and the rest of the areas between Grand Central Station and Times Square constantly buzz. Why? These are some of the most expensive places to shop, and people love to imagine themselves being consistent participants instead of observers. Well-known brands with famous logos and films are consistently on display, and people generally covet even the smallest connection to such a wonderland. As a big city, Mexico City is no different, and its fantasy-through-retail community is Polanco, which is bordered by a highway so that expensive cars can drive in as well.
At the edges of Polanco, I went to a restaurant with my companion and his niece, and that restaurant was known for serving one dish, which I will not say because I am poor. We were excited about it because it had been viral on social media, and his niece was thrilled to be a part of a craze, since all three of us normally avoided trends. The second we got there, we were told that the entire first floor was reserved, after which we were escorted to a wobbly table in the back of the room. The waitstaff then disappeared. I am a Black Yale graduate, and when I say that I am extremely good at leaving disrespectful locations, I mean that. Once the waitstaff disappeared, I explained to my companion and his niece that I was ready to leave, and we would find another spot. They agreed, and we began to gather our belongings, frustrated because this was the first time I had met her.
When the three of us came back downstairs and the waitstaff saw us, suddenly, we were directed to a table next to the window, and once seated, we were encouraged to take our time. The waitstaff never disappeared again, and was exceptionally gracious–as I knew they would be, considering that there were three of us looking to eat at a high-end restaurant. Moreover, I asked for pay the bill because I knew why we had first been escorted to an off-balance table in the back of the second floor, and my companion consented. After all, he had been in the United States with me when I had purchased a pair of his favorite brand of sandals, and a few weeks later when I brought a friend–also Black–to the same store. Both of those times, only the racially ambiguous clerk had been willing to serve us.
The point of the Polancos, Domains, Rodeos, 5th Avenues, and all their permutations is that one should be able to 1) avoid looking at Black people, and 2) avoid acknowledging the existence of poor people. The bad behavior initiates when an obviously Black person enters an establishment, and the switch in behavior tends to come when people with money begin to leave. Selling the fantasy that Black people do not exist is a very popular premise for most luxury establishments, and that it the most important message in today’s imperial messaging, since it is largely managed by the United States. Despite the manic messaging that it is class and not race, people know what they know and see what they see. If avoiding Black people is not the goal, then maybe both clientele and staff should learn to regulate their emotions when we enter these places that were built on lies in the first place.
Chasing A Dying Empire 