I am blind and Tuesday of last week, my guide dog and I were denied access to a restaurant. My friend Brian Rice, along with my dog Avatar, stopped in for dinner at the Café Olé Mexican restaurant. We entered during the lively dinner hour. Quickly a server rushed over to us and told us no dogs were allowed in the restaurant.

I tried to explain to him that I was blind and that my dog was a guide dog and not a pet. He still insisted that I couldn’t be seated. I then asked to speak with the manager. We waited for nearly fifteen minutes. I was both nervous and embarrassed, as other patrons entered asking us if we were in line for a table. I felt my friend was uncomfortable which led me to feel ashamed. Sadly, during the course of 18 years of using a guide dog for continued independence and mobility, I have experienced this in several businesses.  

On these occasions, I hoped that the head staff will recognize and respect the law regarding service animals in regard to their right to access the establishment. In the past, I have chosen to educate rather than litigate.

Most times I have been welcomed, but I have also been turned away hungry and humiliated. These types of experiences have led me to become an advocate for the underdog. I write this letter now to advocate for myself and my guide Avatar.  

The manager of the restaurant finally arrived, not introducing himself, but quickly asking me what he could do for me.  I recounted our entrance into the restaurant and concern of one of his servers. He immediately repeated the same message, no dogs were allowed. I stood there in disbelief, trying to reason with him. …  He went on to ask me why I needed a dog to eat dinner.  He told me to simply leave the dog out in the car while having dinner.  I explained the purpose of the dog was to follow the hostess to a table and perhaps later to the restroom independently without assistance from another person.

He then directed his attention to my friend Brian, asking him if he was blind.  Brian said, “No, why do you ask?”

I reminded the manager that it was very cold outside and that I would not leave my dog in the car while we ate dinner. At this point, the once loud and lively atmosphere of the room fell and we became the entertainment and focus. My face became as red as a chili pepper.

I was determined to not walk away this time, with our tails between our legs, like so many times before. I recited the law regarding service animals and their full access into public places. He said I was threatening him. I admitted I was. I began to tear up. The word “law” brought the kitchen staff to watch the argument. Other words came out from the manager.

I was so publicly humiliated and desperate that I said to him and then my friend that I wanted to call the police. This caused an immediate recall of the manager’s understanding of the said law about guide dogs having dinner at Café Olé. He then recited language about the law that I hadn’t even told him. This exposed the fact that he not only knew about the law, but ignored it. Then he said he didn’t understand why I made such a big deal out of it and offered a table for us.

I responded by saying that if there was no big deal, why aren’t we already seated eating some chips and salsa and drinking a marguerita? It occurred to me that he hadn’t offered his name, so I asked him.  He gave only his first name: David.  

We left, because I was disgusted and distraught.

That week, instead contacting my lawyer, I prayed asking God for guidance.

He led me to contact the proprietor of the business, Stan Harrison. After receiving the news from one of the employees that there was someone that was going write about a bad experience that happened recently in his establishment, he returned my call.

I wasn’t surprised when he said he knew nothing about the incident. I said that a good manager should have informed him of such an incident.

He listened to my account of the experience that evening.  Responding, he again said that he knew nothing about it.

There was not any apology for having a bad experience at all, only that he would talk to Mr. Gonzalez for his side of the story. I suggested training for the entire staff on how to accommodate persons with different abilities. My intention with this conversation would be very personal yet stern in its delivery, balancing the lack of respect already missing in our conversation. Mr. Harrison said I was trying to dominate him. Is anyone reading this sick of hearing it? Because I’m tired of writing about it. I will wait as I was told by Mr. Harrison, for maybe a call back, to hopefully clear up this gross misunderstanding.  

Until then, adios amigo

Sharon McConnell-Dickerson