I Must Be Getting Old...

My focus is broken as I catch Gina in my peripheral vision, bobbing and weaving at her table.  She looked like shit.  And that was putting it nicely.
I stood her up the previous night even after I heard about how "dank" the show was going to be. Heard the afterparty would be off the hook as well.  What the hell does "dank" even mean?  Am I getting to the point where I need to look words and phrases up on Urban Dictionary?  
 
Well.  I stayed in. Again.  Watched a few movies (thank you, Netflix). 
Here's the catch:  I didn't come into work today with a massive hangover wishing I was chopped liver.

I remember those days, not too long ago, when I was in her shoes.  Hoping my tables would be having a "no fuss" kind of day.  Hoping the rest of the servers would pick up the slack on the side-work and not rat me out because we've all had these days.  Hoping someone would want to stay through and finish the shift for me so I could go back home and lie down. Hoping I could disappear because all I wanted was a five-minute break to get my shit together.  

 Why do we do it?  When we know we have places to go the next day, things to do..."responsibilities".  Good lord, does being an adult suck sometime.  It's one thing when you're jammed like a sardine in some cubicle with your head pounding and splitting as you're forced to look at a computer monitor and return phone calls all day.  It's quite another when you're job description is to be timely with orders, look well-kempt, and for god sakes-- smile.  It's a little hard to do all of this when your face is hovering in a porcelain bowl every ten minutes.


I always wonder what guests think when they get stuck with someone who's had a rough night.  Can't be pretty.
  Should the worker have shown up to work?  No.  Probably not, especially had they been sick.  Which is another issue at hand.
Cold and flu season.  If you're sick, stay home.  That's just plain gross, especially in the food industry. I, nor do you, want someone who has been sneezing and coughing handling their dishes of food.  Cleanliness is godliness, however I cannot guarantee you are washing your hands as you should.
Could you as a guest ask for another server? Definitely.  I would advise to as well.  And don't you dare feel guilty about it.  Better safe than sorry.

If I come into work looking like I was hit by a train, it's because I'm working a sixty hour work week-- not because I was tanked the night before.  If I'm irritable, it's because I am now the person who shows up on time to complete the side-work that won't be touched for another thirty minutes by those just rolling out of bed.
If I'm calling in sick, it's because I'm legitimately ill and do not wish to spread my goobers to others.

I walk in on Gina later on in the bathroom and can't decide if she's really sick, or just sitting there in an act of "poor me".  I laugh to myself and shake my head as I skirt out of there and hustle off to pick up on the tables she's passing.  One man's loss is another man's gain.  And boy, I'm happy to coming out on top with that.


- Malia Etienette

Photo Credit:
"What is a Hangover?"- www.sciencebasedlife.wordpress.com
"Employees Must Wash Hands"- www.webstaurantstore.com
"Hangover Cures That Aren't Healthy"- www.abcnews.go.com

Hellidays are Here

December 1st.

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone.  Just like that, guests from out of town are back where they came from. The restaurant settles in for another lull just before the other holidays really hit.
 

I understand Thanksgiving, but at the same time...I really don't.
Families throw extravagant feasts.  Lavish, decorative orchestrated productions. After stuffing our pie-holes and saying grace, claiming our deep gratitude for everything we have, we what?  We just as quickly jump in our vehicles and race off to the stores because of course Black Friday starts early-- and we buy all the shit we don't yet have in our lives already.  And if we miss those sales?! Cyber Monday.
 

That's thanks alright.

As my mother and I'm sure her mother has always said if our plates weren't clean, "Finish.  There are starving children in China."  What we didn't eat became breakfast.
Well I'll be damned, there are starving families here, maybe so close as next door.  Somewhere along the way, we have lost the meaning of holidays and have let materialistic belongings and the Hallmark-tackiness of it all serve as the backbone, the main reason for running the show.
 
I'M not entirely innocent either.  I remember there being a time where I would think I was clever-- armed with a fat, black, felt-tipped, permanent marker, furiously scribbling deranged circles around items I wanted in catalogs, leaving it out on display where my mother would surely see it.  The miracle would be if I didn't encircle or highlight half the items in the magazine.  What are we teaching kids?  I associated holidays with receiving.  Screw giving.  I wanted things.  And now?  Things don't matter.  It's the time that I get to spend with my family and those important to me.  The world was crazy to think that only one day should be designated (and should suffice) for giving thanks-- it should be everyday you open your eyes and realize how very lucky you are to have what you do.
 

Looking at myself now, I'm not sure what to think.  I'm no Scrooge, but do I see myself in shades of green... with a sinister smile, turning my fingers around the tips of a mustache.  A grinch?
Bitter much? No... Maybe only tired of seeing the same thing over again.  Like a broken record repeating itself.  Serving guests that need to be drunk to sit across the table from in-laws. Running martinis for women reminiscent of Sex in the City whom have never worked a day in their lives, yet pass gift bags from spas and boutiques around the table.  Hauling heavy fur coats to the back to be hung because their haughty owner wouldn't make the trip themselves, and instead hurled the garment at you.  Silly me, I keep forgetting servers are the help.  It's hell.  This month, I will be praying for patience.  Something that cannot be bought.

I hold my breath. Count back from ten.  Exhale.

 

I've never been very good at saying thank you.  I've never had much to give when it comes to giving gifts.  Thankfully, it's actions that speak louder than words.

So give back with your actions. Show appreciation. Show love.
Be present. That alone is what the holidays should be about.

Thanks...(really)
Malia Etienette

Photo Credit:
"Thanksgiving in the US"- www.timeanddate.com
"Amazon's Naughty, Walmart's Nice?"- www.forbes.com
"Average Child's Christmas List"- www.72point.com
Grinch- www.bristolrising.com
"Carolina Charm: Operation Sandwich"- www.northcarolinacharm.com