Today was a noble, sunny, blue skies day in Australia, New South Wales, perfect weather for a coffee with my double jabbed vaccinated best friend of thirty years, Imad.
Leaving my parental duties behind, I sped from home by 4:40pm across to Macarthur Square, parked the car, and traversed across the coffee shops and restaurants that lined with courtyard towards the Macarthur Square train station.
Imad was halfway up the courtyard, seated on a long, wooden bench with a face mask on.
“How are you going? Where do you want to go,” I greeted him through my face mask.
He looked across to our favorite coffee shop, Coco Cubano.
“How about we get a coffee from Cuba Cubano? Do you want to go in?”
Reluctantly, I nodded, “Okay. Let’s see if we can sit down. They might discriminate against me, though.”
I played along thinking it would be good to document the segregation existing in Australian society two years into the covid-19 pandemic. Nonetheless, I was bothered how we were being pushed towards an inevitable showdown that exists only for unvaccinated, pro-choice people.
Imad, my double jabbed vaccinated childhood best friend of thirty years did not seem to understand how I would feel when he wants to go into an establishment that blankly rejects or discriminates against unvaccinated people like me.
Imad has his mandatory covid-19 vaccination certificate, so it’s no big deal for him to walk into any establishment. He’s got permission from the Australian government to do that.
He doesn’t understand it makes me feel upset and embarrassed. He has not experienced that side of discrimination yet. He may never experience the discrimination that has become commonplace in society for me now in the aftermath of covid-19.
The Covid-19 Vaccination Certificate Discrimination Showdown
As we approached the Coco Cubano entrance, a tall, male staff member who has seen our faces hundreds of times before cautiously greeted us.
Hospitality staff too have reservations about asking taboo covid-19 related questions. They might develop anxiety over time stemming from their newfound powers to discriminate against members of the public, despite their own values and ethics regarding vaccine passports.
“Welcome. Would you like to come in, and sit down,” the male waiter asked Imad.
Imad nodded, reaching a hand preemptively into his pocket.
The waiter followed up, “Could you show your vaccination certificate?”
That is where the business transaction broke down.
“I don’t have one, but my friend has one,” I calmly told the waiter.
Imad rushed to get his covid-19 vaccination certificate out – knowing that I had just been tripped up by this waiter. He’s usually relaxed, slow and deliberate in his process. He looked shaken, as he fidgeted to display a copy of his covid-19 vaccination certificate saved on his mobile phone. It was quite telling.
Looking at the waiter, I asked, “Is that alright?”
The waiter paused for a few moments thinking about what he was going to say to me next.
There were no customers behind us. The customers seated inside were blissfully unaware, chatting away with one another. No one knows. No one should know. Only the waiter and I are aware that I did not have a covid-19 vaccination certificate. We all didn’t want to create drama.
In those moments, I gently persuaded, “I don’t have the vaccine certificate. Is it alright that we come in?”
He nodded his head and acquiesced, “Alright. Just come in.”
That person had a heart. He doesn’t want Australia to be a segregated society.
Discussing COVID-19 Vaccine Mandates
We found a table tucked away in a corner opposite the windows in Coco Cubano. I placed my phone and wallet on the table.
To our left were three different sets of people. All were happily chatting to each other without face masks on.
“Imad. Look. They’re not wearing face masks inside. Let’s take our face masks off!”
“Yeah. May as well,” he agreed.
As we opened up about our lives, Imad became noticeably uncomfortable seated among all those vaccinated people. Perhaps he thought that we were going to talk about vaccinated and unvaccinated statuses, a taboo topic that would get us kicked out if other patrons overheard.
For no good reason, he asked, “Do you want to try and find another seat up there? It looks quieter.”
I agreed.
We found a small sequestered table pinned to the bar, in an inner area barren of people.
“I will go order coffees,” I put my face mask back on.
As I walked across to the front counter, I saw trepidation build in the wary eyes of the waiter, as if a big, red danger sign was headed his way.
“Can I order two large cappuccinos with one sugar each please?”
“That’ll be $8.20,” he seemed to blank out for a second.
“Just make it out to ten,” I gave the waiter a tip.
That was my small contribution to humanity. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, the waiter did the humane thing. It helped me realign my gratitude in other ways too. Now, whenever someone makes an ethical choice not to segregate, I give them a tip.
Diary Of A Mad Chaos is a daily diary written from March 1996 until today, of which individual books and book series have been created, namely “The Lost Years” an exploration of young, entwined love, the “Wubao In China (猎艳奇缘)” book series which provides an extensive comparative analysis of the cultural differences between Eastern and Western societies, and the book titled “Foreigner (华人)” an exploration of race relations in Australia.
