Journal: Waiter from the Drayton

Hypothetical journal entry written by the waiter who served Clare and Irene at the Drayton (in Passing), written that evening. 

I hate being the one to serve on a hot day, how did I end up a waiter? I should have studied harder I suppose.  Whomever may read this journal should know that things are about to get a little more interesting.  I wrote previously of that woman, the regular, who confided in me about this “passing” business, I still can’t believe that she’s, black.  I feel like talking more about her before moving on to her, friend.  How can she be? There’s nothing black about her! Somehow I know I still retain my belief that she was not trying to fool me, what reason would she have to do that? I see her all the time on that roof, tea and cigarettes, and a name like Clare, is that a black name? Is that a name she’s given to fool men like me? Why did she trust me? Does my quietness and temperate lead her to think that I wouldn’t divulge her secret, if it’s true? Unfortunately and fortunately it is true, I am not going to divulge that which I have been promised not to divulge, even if she is black.  I’m sure you can see my confusion here.  Well, anyway, the more interesting part I alluded to is that this Clare was surprised by a friend today.  Although I politely stayed out of earshot, there is something within me that makes me think that she too, was black.  Is she doing this passing business, too? I think I’m starting to get paranoid, how many of “them” are there around us? Hell, am I black? As far as I can see with the relatives and family I know I have nothing to suspect, but what would I be looking for? Anyway what should I care, they look white enough to me, but is white enough good enough? I feel conflicted every time Clare walks in now, I am not sure what to do.  However, I know in my heart my word is more important than reporting what may or may not be true to the manager.  I have to admit, Clare is incredibly charming, maybe that’s why I will likely keep this secret of hers until I die.  Why did I let her take my ear that day, my conscious would be much the clearer if I hadn’t heard this “passing” business.  Crazy world, I’m sure this is going to get more interesting, who would have thought working at the Drayton would have exposed me to all this?

"As if unaware of her desire and her hesitation, Clare remarked, thoughtfully: 'You know, 'Rene, I've often wondered why more coloured girls, girls like you and Margaret Hammer and Esther Dawson and - oh, lots others - never 'passed' over.  It's such a frightfully easy thing to do. If one's the type, all that's needed is a little nerve'" (Passing, p.1157-158).