About 70 people gathered at the legendary El Coyote Cafe in Los Angeles' Fairfax District Wednesday morning for a community sit down/brunch to hear Marjorie Christoffersen speak about why she gave $100 to Yes on 8 via the Mormon Church. Marjorie, a lifelong Mormon, is the niece of El Coyote's founder and daughter of the current owner. She receives a salary as a floor manager. El Coyote has 89 employees, many of whom are gay.
But the crowd was deeply touched when one of the waitress, Rocio who is working on her citizenship papers, explained that she didn't know gay people before she came to work at El Coyote, but after a few weeks working there, her younger brother came to her and told her he was gay, and that because of El Coyote's clientele she was able to understand him. She was pleading with customers, who clearly care for her as she does for them, to not leave El Coyote, and said that if she had had her citizenship she would have voted no on 8.
And therein lies the problem: Here is a restaurant, seeped in Los Angeles history with a huge gay clientele, that employs 89 staff many of whom are gay, all of whom (except Marjorie) are gay friendly--and that has a manager who is part of the owner's family, who tithes to an anti-gay church and donated, at her church's behest, to eliminate a civil right from the very people who she says she loves--people who help provide her with an income.
If Marjorie loves El Coyote as much as she says, she needs bid farewell to her job. And maybe the condescending idea of how you can "love" someone and be their "friend" yet feel they are not worthy of equal rights needs be tossed off the back of the bus.
At the end of the meeting, no one felt like eating, despite the offer of a free meal--Marjorie's views had left a bad taste in everyone's mouth.
I got a bad taste in my mouth right now too. El Coyote is possibly the first Mexican restaurant I ever ate in, maybe sixty years ago. I have eaten there many, many times since. The food is excellent. I'm 500 miles from there now, so it's hollow for me to say 'never again', but, never again.
God damn those fuckin' Mormons. Now they're shittin' on good places. Keep it in Salt Lake City, you assholes.
Note to the Elder Saints: What you racist, homophobic motherfuckers should do in aid of the country you live in and despise is a cult-wide Latter Day Jonestown.
Mrs. G's father deserted her Mom and left her with two small children back in the late '40s. He later converted to Mormonism. I met him once right after I told one of his state-paid foster delinquent brats who had just cracked a whip a little too close to me that I was going to break his fuckin' arm if he did it again. I woulda done it then and there, but that was the day Mrs. G took her fiance, me, to meet her father and I was on my best behavior. He didn't like me and I didn't like him. A few years after that he blew his own head off. At no loss to the human race. Take the hint, the rest of you Mormon bastards.