It was one of those scorching summer mornings where the heat seemed to shimmer off the streets, making the city feel like an oven. The sun blazed high in the cloudless sky, and the air was thick, clinging to every surface. As the pavement shimmered with rising steam, Shaquille O’Neal stepped out of his sleek black SUV, adjusting his baseball cap. Despite the oppressive heat, he had just finished an early morning workout—one of the many that kept his towering frame in peak condition, even years after his NBA career.
At 7’1″, Shaq was impossible to miss in a crowd, and though he often got noticed, today, he wasn’t looking for attention. He just wanted a peaceful breakfast. A simple cup of coffee, maybe some eggs and toast to start the day before diving into his packed schedule. His eyes landed on a high-end restaurant on the corner of the block, its glass windows gleaming in the sun. It wasn’t the kind of place he usually stopped at for breakfast, but the promise of cool air-conditioned interior called to him. As he walked inside, the rush of chilled air against his skin offered a moment of relief from the unbearable heat outside.
The restaurant was sleek and modern, filled with well-dressed patrons engaged in quiet conversation. The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the buttery aroma of croissants and pancakes. Shaq noticed the subtle hush as he walked in—people turning their heads, stealing glances at him. Some recognized him instantly, whispering amongst themselves. Others, particularly those unfamiliar with basketball, seemed momentarily startled by his sheer size before turning back to their meals. It wasn’t unusual, but today felt different. The stares were colder, more judgmental than the usual curious ones.
He took a deep breath, shaking off the unease, and walked toward an open table by the window. A waitress approached him, her blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, her crisp uniform spotless. Her name tag read “Anine.” She didn’t smile.
“Can I get you something?” she asked flatly, her tone distant, almost robotic.
Shaq studied her for a moment. He had seen how she greeted the other guests—bright smiles, friendly energy, an effortless warmth in her demeanor. But there was none of that for him. Just a hollow, uninterested stare. He had encountered this treatment before, more times than he could count. A lifetime in the public eye had taught him how to read people—some looked at him and saw a legend; others saw something else entirely.
Keeping his voice calm, Shaq smiled and said, “I’ll have a coffee with milk, please.”
Anine didn’t respond with warmth or even acknowledgment. She simply nodded, turned on her heel, and walked away without another word. Shaq exhaled slowly, drumming his fingers on the polished wooden table. Around him, the atmosphere in the restaurant seemed more relaxed—businessmen conversing lightly, the clink of silverware, the quiet hum of the city outside.
Anine returned a minute later to the businessmen’s table, balancing a tray with their drinks. “Here you go, enjoy,” she chirped, her tone bright and friendly as she set their cups down gently. Shaq watched the exchange, noting the difference in her attitude. Not a single drop spilled, and there was not a hint of indifference in her tone.
A few moments later, Anine returned to Shaq’s table with his coffee. But this time, her demeanor couldn’t have been more different. With a quick, careless motion, she set the coffee cup in front of him so abruptly that some of the milk splashed out, dripping onto the saucer. No smile, no words, not even a glance. Shaq sat back, pressing his lips together.
It wasn’t about the coffee. It wasn’t even about the lack of warmth in her attitude. It was the message—unspoken but clear. He had seen it before: subtle discrimination. The kind that wasn’t loud, but always felt. It wasn’t just indifference; it was intentional. Shaq stirred his coffee slowly, the clinking of the spoon the only sound at his table. The room was still filled with life, but it felt distant, colder.
Evelyn, the waitress who had greeted him without warmth, rushed around the room, refilling drinks, clearing plates, smiling at everyone but him. He noticed how she made an effort for the other customers. A little joke here, a friendly gesture there, but for him, she barely acknowledged his presence. He could feel the weight of the stares from other patrons. Some were subtle, stolen glances; others, lingering, assessing. He wasn’t naive. He had lived through these moments before.
Then, as if on cue, Anine walked by again, and he raised his hand for a refill. Not calling out, not waving his hand, just quietly raising it, waiting. She saw him, and immediately, her expression soured. She sighed, heavy and audible, muttered something under her breath, and slowly walked toward him.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice cold, biting.
Shaq smiled, maintaining his composure. “Could I get a refill, please? I have a long day ahead of me.”
Anine rolled her eyes. “A long day, huh?” she muttered as she turned toward the counter to grab the coffee pot. Shaq stayed silent, watching her. When she returned, she didn’t offer a smile. She tilted the coffee pot quickly, but her hand wasn’t steady. The hot liquid splashed onto Shaq’s shirt and lap, a jolt of pain rushing up his legs. His shock was evident, and the entire restaurant froze. A gasp echoed from one of the tables. The clatter of silverware stopped. Conversations fell to a hushed whisper as everyone turned to watch.
Shaq quickly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, but Anine’s face remained stoic. She didn’t apologize, nor did she offer any sympathy. “You really should’ve gotten out of the way,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm before she spun around and walked away.
Shaq sat there, still trying to clean himself up. The silence was deafening, and all eyes were on him. He could feel the anger rising, but he held it in. He wasn’t the type to lash out. Still, this was too much. He stood up slowly, brushing off his pants, and made his way toward the counter where the manager, Mr. Jenkins, was standing.
Mr. Jenkins had seen everything, but when Shaq approached, he turned away, pretending to be busy with paperwork. Shaq wasn’t having it. He walked right up to the counter and cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said calmly, catching the manager’s attention. “I’d like to talk to you.”
Mr. Jenkins sighed, clearly trying to avoid the conversation. “What now?” he muttered without turning around.
Shaq remained composed. “About what just happened.”
Finally, Mr. Jenkins turned around, looking frustrated. “I don’t have time for complaints,” he said dismissively. But Shaq didn’t back down.
“I’m talking about how you treat people,” Shaq said, his voice growing firmer. “How Anine treated me. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time, huh?”
Mr. Jenkins hesitated, his face reddening. “I… I didn’t know who you were,” he stammered.
Shaq wasn’t buying it. “It’s not about who I am. It’s about how you treat every customer. How you let something like this go unnoticed.”
The manager looked around, and Shaq saw the weight of what had happened settling in. The other patrons were murmuring, watching the confrontation unfold. He took a deep breath and turned to Shaq.
“You’re right,” he said slowly, his voice now sincere. “I’m sorry. This won’t happen again.”
Shaq nodded, his presence unyielding. “Good,” he said. “Now, what are you going to do about Anine?”
Mr. Jenkins took a moment, then nodded, his expression serious. “She’s fired,” he said. “We don’t tolerate this kind of behavior here.”
The restaurant was still, but now there was a sense of resolution in the air. The tension had shifted, and the customers seemed to be processing the event that had just unfolded. Shaq had handled it calmly, with grace, but there was a message that couldn’t be ignored.
He had made sure that, at least today, the power of silence had been broken.
Shaq’s Big Chicken to open first location in Mississippi
HATTIESBURG, Miss. (WHLT) – NBA legend Shaquille O’Neal will bring his popular chicken restaurant, Big Chicken, to Mississippi.
The first location in the state will be on U.S. 98 adjacent to ALDI and Aspen Dental in Hattiesburg.
Founded in 2018 by the former NBA player, Big Chicken is a fast-casual concept that fuses O’Neal’s home-cooked childhood favorites.
Shaq’s Big Chicken serves crispy chicken sandwiches and tenders, Cheez-It crusted mac n’ cheese, and hand-crafted ice cream shakes and sundaes.
