I am a pretty cautious person by nature, despite how it might seem, when it comes to protecting myself emotionally. I think everyone has those triggers that put them mentally in an unhealthy place that they want to avoid. I do everything I can to keep myself from those situations. I've done what I can to help myself heal from things that have hurt me in the past and by and large I feel like I am well adjusted given my fairly chaotic and occasionally awful past. And yet, there are days when it seems the past is inescapable and you find that you are much more vulnerable than you imagined you could be.
Let's rewind for a moment to about four or five months ago. I was just starting to work as a server at The Diner. Or, at least, I was finally comfortable enough with my surroundings that I didn't feel like every weekend was a battle. Its then that I first noticed this nice, quiet guy who read books and sat by himself. He came in every Saturday. He seemed nice enough. I noticed him enough that he eventually became That Nice Quiet Book-Reading Guy Who Always Orders a Breakfast Special (Take Three Creams with the Coffee). We would chat occasionally and I discovered he was an interesting person. He liked the outdoors. He seemed pretty well rounded. About two months ago I found out he's an Arborist. He then became (in all my references to Kitten when talking about work) That Nice Arborist Who Comes In On Saturdays and Reads. By luck or design he started landing in my section more often. It was then that I discovered two things 1- he does just about everything from play instruments to rock climbing to reading, in general that he is a person whom I would like to hang out with. 2- His name. We'll call him Jack here (short for Lumberjack, or Jack of all trades, you chose).
So I happened to have an extra ticket to the symphony this last weekend and I invited Jack along. I was both pleased and surprised when he said yes. Sakura and I go (well we try) every month. He has season tickets and I am almost always his date. Anyway, we went, we had dinner, Jack met Kitten and Sakura and things were nice.
Cue Sunday. Without airing Jack's dirty laundry I can say with a fair amount of certainty that he has, in most people's eyes, a personal history that would make him predisposed to dislike me. That he was not only comfortable but gracious and very open with me and my strange little family speaks to his strength of character, I think. I know, without him telling me, that he was putting himself out there when he joined us on Saturday. I took it as a compliment. Imagine my surprise when that morning when he was in eating breakfast that he invited me to come watch him play his instrument at his church that Sunday night. Once again, I'll reiterate that his character already shames mine because I don't know if I would be able to ask him to come, I don't know, watch me sing or read my writing or whatever. Not this early in our tentative friendship. Not especially considering those extenuating circumstances with would bother me considerably were I him. He was even kind enough to point out he was not proselytizing in inviting me- proving he was intuitive enough (or I scream NOT CHRISTIAN loudly enough) to see that might be something of a deterrent to me. Even though, once he gets to know me better, he'll understand that I really don't mind most Christians, or the religion itself, really. Its just not my cup of tea, and we've already discussed here my philosophical disagreements with the religion- I won't rehash it.)
What he couldn't know (and what some of you who have been around for some time will recall ) is that I was sexually assaulted by my Pastor's son and some of his friends when I was a teenager. The resulting damage to my person, and my mental health and all of the horrible things that came after that when I foolishly sought help from my pastor, thinking he would do the right thing and want to help me (I was really, really naive) have had a profound effect on me as a person. He wouldn't know about the years of therapy. The drugs. The attempts on my own life. My blatant disregard for my own health and safety. My lack of personal value. The number or horrible relationships I ended up in that mirrored, in some sick way, that first really awful one. He wouldn't know this. And he shouldn't really. Because in the intervening years, as most of you are aware, I've gotten help, I've healed and in general I consider myself to be as well adjusted and happy as a person who has gone through what I did can be. I live a relatively open life. I have learned to cope with my anger and fear. I am in a successful, healthy relationship. I have friends who love and support me and help me when I feel weak. Any person who looks at me would not see those hidden scars. I don't want them to.
So imagine my surprise- after all these years of being well adjusted and happy- at finding myself in the parking lot of his church Sunday night, sitting in my truck, having an utter and complete panic attack. I never even saw it coming. You know, it occurred to me as I pulled in that outside of three funerals, one wedding and a couple of Midnight Masses at Christmas (and honestly, a Catholic church is a completely different animal from a tiny protestant church) I have not set foot inside a church building since the incident as a teenager. I certainly have not been to any church without having someone whom I might consider a security blanket with me. So there I was, sitting there, feeling one hundred percent out of sorts and a little bit terrified, trying desperately to talk myself off that panic ledge. I remember telling myself how big a step it must have been for Jack to be with my family. I remember telling myself that I could be a big person. I remember telling myself that I was not going to punk out. I was already there.
And honestly, as I sat there, I reminded myself that I am different now. I know who I am. I am stronger. I am braver. I know how to protect myself. As a priestess I speak with god more often than most of these people would ever in their lives. I never thought the day would come when my being a witch would be the thing that made me brave enough to walk into a church. But it was. If I can hear the voice of god, if the goddess comes to me in my dreams, if my Grandfather and Great Grandmother and all my sacred dead can sing me to sleep on my worst nights, there was really no reason I should be worried that they would not be there for me in that moment. And so I got out of my truck.
And Jack, thank god and goddess, came out of the church just then to get something out of his truck. And he spotted me. And promptly commented on how terrified I looked. Bless his heart, he asked me if I was afraid of combusting or being struck down by god when I went inside and he laughed. I managed a smile and told him with complete honestly that I was fine with God, it was his followers that had me anxious. Bless his heart, he put his hand on me and led me in and let me sit down and I could tell he felt bad when he had to go do other things. But he did come back, and when he wasn't playing he did sit with me. I felt bad about that, really, because I feel like he was babysitting me. I know he had people he probably would rather have been with.
Did you know that all churches smell the same? I swear they do, though I didn't recognize it until now. The voices sound the same. Its like the same picture, over and over, no matter where you are. I find it ironic. The sounds are the same. The church may be different- they may see themselves as completely unique- but I swear I had been to so many before...well, before. And it doesn't look like things have changed. Which is fine for them, of course, but for me was immensely uncomfortable.
I want to say this- Jack played beautifully and I am really glad I went. I really am. I might even go again because honestly, now that I am seeing my own fear I feel like I should face it. And it wasn't so bad really, even if I am on a different page spiritually. Their pastor is really, really nice. That said, I spent a lot of the evening jumping every time there was lightening (because of course there was a storm rolling in), twisting my rain jacket in my hands in an attempt to look like I was merely chilly and not fighting the impulse to white knuckle the seats (I was not leaving!) and struggling desperately to turn off my "witch eyes" which had suddenly decided to light up like The Plaza at Christmas (let me tell you how fun it is to be seeing auras and sensing emotions and have your psychic mail box go off while you're trying to focus on something else entirely.) Obviously something about the place or the situation put me in an Alpha state, which is great. Unfortunately, I was trying to torch my own personal demons.
I think I tripped over my own feet three times in the ten yards to the door (thank the lord that everyone already knows how clumsy I am). I managed to get out of the parking lot and home without wrecking my truck. I only had a little cry after I got into bed. I managed a whole night without nighmares, though, and that's got to count for something.
I suppose I am stuck in a strange place feeling like I am really weak because I had such a crushing panic attack and being proud that I got through it. I'm still sorting out how I feel. I am still trying to sift through the emotions I had and the ones I have now. I'm trying to give myself space and think about the whys and wherefores of a building being a trigger. I can't punish myself for it. I know that. But I feel disappointed in myself. I thought I was stronger.
Kitten says I am being unreasonable. That when traumatic things happen to us that we never really truly recover from them. I would never judge her for reacting to fire the way she does. I would never condemn a person who struggles with an eating disorder or addiction or any other thing that even slightly suggests less than sterling mental health. She's right, I wouldn't.
Is it wrong that I hold myself to a higher standard? Maybe, but it doesn't mean I don't.
AGxx
Showing posts with label waitressing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waitressing. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Monday, September 16, 2013
Everybody Changes
So it seems again like I am a lazy blogger, but honestly, things have been so crazy, I really feel like I've been a bit justified.
I have a job now, for one thing. I've been working at a wonderful place we'll call the Magic Pancake for about a month and a half now. I really like it and I'm super happy. Its actually one of the places I mentioned that I would miss when I leave the city I am living in now. I feel like the staff are my family and I really enjoy going to work every day. It isn't far from my house and I can walk home if I want to. Its pretty nice. I also am off by two every day because we are only open until then, so I have my afternoons free, which is really enjoyable. It gives me a chance to still see my friends, be active or get housework done before Kitten gets home.
Having a job means I have time out of the house, which makes me appreciate being at home more, if that was possible. It has also brought to my attention that I need to exercise a little more and maybe lose a little weight. No, I don't think I am fat (not when I'm being rational anyway) but I weighed myself at a friend's house a couple weeks ago and I've put on 15 pounds since I stopped smoking. Some exercise might be in order. I don't mind going up a couple of pant sizes, but I do want to be healthy. Come January I'll probably join a gym. I've been looking into the local YMCA among other places, and I think I've almost settled on them. They have a lot of good classes and there's one just a few blocks from my house. It has a pool and I'll have access to it even if I can't or don't feel like driving.
I should also probably mention the fact that Oscelot is no longer living with Kitten and I. We are no longer dating her. It is (so far) a pretty amicable split. She and Bobcat are moving into the house next door to us, which should be a good time. We've been wanting Bobcat to come back over to our side of town for a while now and it was very convenient that the house was open when Oscelot was looking for a place. It will, I hope, turn out well. If it doesn't...well, it happens. We are trying as hard as we can to smooth the way for all of us. We don't want any of that nasty picking sides or whatever that comes from a lot of breakups.
Personally, I think it is wonderful for her that she feels ready to be on her own and support herself. I think it is a huge step for her to want more for herself than Kitten and I could have given her. She deserves to be happy and be with a person who is entirely devoted to her.
Since Oscelot has been moving out I've spent a lot of time going through things and arranging the house. We got a new bed with a really firm mattress and that's nice. I am sleeping better already. That pillowtop....ich.
Otherwise, I've spent some time enjoying the BBC series Sherlock (yes, I've just started watching) and Kitten and I have been trying to have little dates on the weekend. Next week we're going to go see Spamalot, its showing locally. Last weekend we went to the Japanese Fall Festival at our local botanical gardens. They have a Japanese stroll garden and we really enjoyed it. There were performers from our sister city in Japan there, and we had fun. We bought weekend passes and Bobcat came with us. It was a lot of fun. Our first night out Sakura joined us as well. The second day of the festival Kitten and I went in kimono. It was really comfortable as hot as it was outside and I was delighted to have a chance to wear my kimono from our honeymoon out of the house and with its obi. It also meant I got to wear my pretty jade hair pick that Kitten gave me. She's such a sweetheart.
I'm hoping that things will settle down soon, though. I want to start working on the leather corset and greaves I was doing before I started working at the Magic Pancake, and I've got fabric for a Neo-Victorian bustle I want to wear with it. I'd like to have it finished before our local Con this year, but that's going to be up in the air. I also want to make myself a mannequin so I can do my hand-sewing on it....but that requires time, help and a TON of duct tape. Projects, projects....
So. That's me. For now.
loves
AGxx
I have a job now, for one thing. I've been working at a wonderful place we'll call the Magic Pancake for about a month and a half now. I really like it and I'm super happy. Its actually one of the places I mentioned that I would miss when I leave the city I am living in now. I feel like the staff are my family and I really enjoy going to work every day. It isn't far from my house and I can walk home if I want to. Its pretty nice. I also am off by two every day because we are only open until then, so I have my afternoons free, which is really enjoyable. It gives me a chance to still see my friends, be active or get housework done before Kitten gets home.
Having a job means I have time out of the house, which makes me appreciate being at home more, if that was possible. It has also brought to my attention that I need to exercise a little more and maybe lose a little weight. No, I don't think I am fat (not when I'm being rational anyway) but I weighed myself at a friend's house a couple weeks ago and I've put on 15 pounds since I stopped smoking. Some exercise might be in order. I don't mind going up a couple of pant sizes, but I do want to be healthy. Come January I'll probably join a gym. I've been looking into the local YMCA among other places, and I think I've almost settled on them. They have a lot of good classes and there's one just a few blocks from my house. It has a pool and I'll have access to it even if I can't or don't feel like driving.
I should also probably mention the fact that Oscelot is no longer living with Kitten and I. We are no longer dating her. It is (so far) a pretty amicable split. She and Bobcat are moving into the house next door to us, which should be a good time. We've been wanting Bobcat to come back over to our side of town for a while now and it was very convenient that the house was open when Oscelot was looking for a place. It will, I hope, turn out well. If it doesn't...well, it happens. We are trying as hard as we can to smooth the way for all of us. We don't want any of that nasty picking sides or whatever that comes from a lot of breakups.
Personally, I think it is wonderful for her that she feels ready to be on her own and support herself. I think it is a huge step for her to want more for herself than Kitten and I could have given her. She deserves to be happy and be with a person who is entirely devoted to her.
Since Oscelot has been moving out I've spent a lot of time going through things and arranging the house. We got a new bed with a really firm mattress and that's nice. I am sleeping better already. That pillowtop....ich.
Otherwise, I've spent some time enjoying the BBC series Sherlock (yes, I've just started watching) and Kitten and I have been trying to have little dates on the weekend. Next week we're going to go see Spamalot, its showing locally. Last weekend we went to the Japanese Fall Festival at our local botanical gardens. They have a Japanese stroll garden and we really enjoyed it. There were performers from our sister city in Japan there, and we had fun. We bought weekend passes and Bobcat came with us. It was a lot of fun. Our first night out Sakura joined us as well. The second day of the festival Kitten and I went in kimono. It was really comfortable as hot as it was outside and I was delighted to have a chance to wear my kimono from our honeymoon out of the house and with its obi. It also meant I got to wear my pretty jade hair pick that Kitten gave me. She's such a sweetheart.
I'm hoping that things will settle down soon, though. I want to start working on the leather corset and greaves I was doing before I started working at the Magic Pancake, and I've got fabric for a Neo-Victorian bustle I want to wear with it. I'd like to have it finished before our local Con this year, but that's going to be up in the air. I also want to make myself a mannequin so I can do my hand-sewing on it....but that requires time, help and a TON of duct tape. Projects, projects....
So. That's me. For now.
loves
AGxx
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Feeling Your Heartbeat
A snippet of my day at work...
So I put my hair in sponge rollers last night. Anyone who grew up in the eighties knows what I'm talking about. Well, I rolled them a little too tightly, and I woke up this morning with curls so short they made it look like I had cut my elbow length hair to my shoulders. I threw a bandanna on my head and high tailed it to The Devil's Warehouse to pick up some stuff to hopefully arrange my hair when I got to work (with the help of my boss Stalin). I had hopes of the curls falling looser once I had some time to leave it alone. No luck. I ended up rinsing my hair out in the sink in the bathroom and pulling it into a bun. Not nearly as glamorous as I had hoped.
I was crushed. I had hoped to look pretty today, I was having one of those "I need a self esteem boost" days. Yeah..not so much. I ended up nearly in tears, because I'm super vain. Flyguy did his best to comfort me. He told me he thought it had looked pretty. I laughed with one of the girls, its the nice thing about men. They're usually pretty accommodating about telling you that you look okay if you're on the verge of a crying jag.
Cue my first round of customers, who were, in short, awful. I don't normally complain about my guests. I realize everyone has bad days and that sometimes that means that your waitress gets the short end of the stick...but a never ending line of them is terribly disheartening. I had a gentleman (who was terribly old) actually grab my arm to ask me something at just about my worst part of the morning. Anyone who knows me well will understand why I hate being touched by strangers, especially men I don't know. It was only this man's age and a supreme effot at self control that kept him from getting smacked or me screaming. I can't even explain the way it raised hair on my arm to have people I don't know touch me...
Anyway. About this time Kitten dropped by the store to grab a bite to eat and wait for a ride back to our place. Shorty was hosting, and she stopped off at the bar to snatch a couple cookies that Kitten brought in. We were chatting, and trying to keep me from having a panic attack (or Kitten was anyway). Suddenly, Waiting for Tonight by Jennifer Lopez came on the Ambience station that plays in our store. I looked at Kitten and jokingly asked if she wanted to dance. She laughed. We both know because of our store's PDA rules we couldn't even if we wanted to. I asked shorty if she wanted to dance. She told me no, she wasn't in a dancing mood. She more felt like petting Kitten. She was joking. Its hard to translate that kind of come-on to your wife joke into text, but it made me smile.
Then Flyguy wandered up and I asked him if he wanted to dance. As I had predicted to the girls, he did that hip shaking groove with your arms white boy can't dance thing he always does when I ask him that...We were giggling, then he burst into some serious hip thrusting movements that were very...Chippendale. Shorty piped up she could see him doing that in a tool-belt and we were all cracking up, and of course, the visual made Kitten and I blush. Shorty noticed it and gave me a hard time about it. Of course, that made me blush more...and I spent the rest of the afternoon joking with Flyguy about it.
Its things like that that get me through a rough workday. I've got some awesome coworkers. Rather, I should say, I'm lucky to work with people who I consider friends.
Frightening and amusing:
After we got off Flyguy and I ran to the gas station to pick up cigarettes for Shorty because she works all night and she was running out. While I ducked in Flyguy sat in the truck. When I came out he was wearing a cammoflage bandana that he found somewhere int he truck. I have no idea where he got it. If I were more a hostile person I'd wonder why he was digging in the truck, but honestly, I don't care. He comes over to our house enough that if he wanted to snoop and find something truly embarassing, he already would have. Here's the trouble- I had last used that bandanna for a hankercheif when I was sick earlier this month! Go on about how gross I am for leaving it in the truck, I honestly forgot about the damn thing and I'm not normally the one who cleans out the truck so...anyway. Iwas horrified. I plucked it off his head and told him he probably didn't want to be wearing it. Then I explained why. He grinned and said he wasn't worried, it didn't feel wet when he put it on his head.
Its one of the reasons I love him. Honestly, I'm pretty sure most of the other people I know would have been epically grossed out. hell, I was.
Come to think of it, Flyguy's getting a roommate. I should mention that now because I'll be interested to see if it effects how much time he spends with us, since its one of his other pals. Not that I don't want him to have friends, or whatever, but Ithink I've mentioned before I'm a jealopus person, and I might, just maybe, be worried he won't be around as often. I can't have that. I've been missing him too much lately anyway...Iam SUCH a girl sometimes.
In other news, I'm sure you've noticed, I added a few things and changed the layout here. I was getting sick of bubbles. Let's face it, if you got the "Plastic Castle" reference, the bubbles were cute, but if you didn't they might imply that I'm a bubbles kind of girl. Now, I may have plka dots on my bedroom walls, but bubbly really isn't the way I would describe my personality, so a bit of rearranging seemed required. Not to mention, I was sick of looking at it.
I also added a few features. If you're interested in seeing what people read the most frequently, and I always am, I have a rotating bar with the posts that are viewed the most often. There's some suprises in there. I also updated and moved a copy of my first post on this blog to the sidebar, so if you ever get confused with all the names and acronyms and such here, you'll have a chance to sort them out. Also, helpful, I think, for new visitors. Not that I have them all that often...
I added a few new folks to my blogroll too. Carley in Europe is a travel blog my friend Carley is writing. She's a very talented musician with her own record label. I love her to death. I met her through Perpet. We were both attendants at her wedding. Anyway, she's in interesting girl, and I thought it might be worth a share. Sara O is a stand up comic I know who is currently battling cancer. I linked up to her blog, which is ongoing, and shares her experiences as she goes through them. She's a tough and amazing woman, so definately go check her out and leave her some words of encouragement. Finally, I added Waiter Rant, which is the site that inspired the book. I finsihed reading the book recently and I loved it. Some of it was funny, a lot of it was insightful, but what struck me the most was it was such an accurate depiction of what happens to me and my coworkers on a day to day basis it was moving and sometimes a little bit depressing. You can hit any of his backlog on his blogroll and enjoy a very true accoutn of like as a waiter.
Well, that's me. I'm off to go work on some spellwork. Sakura's coming over. Its new moon. I need to be a productive witch.
Cheers, you lot. I love you all.
AGxx
So I put my hair in sponge rollers last night. Anyone who grew up in the eighties knows what I'm talking about. Well, I rolled them a little too tightly, and I woke up this morning with curls so short they made it look like I had cut my elbow length hair to my shoulders. I threw a bandanna on my head and high tailed it to The Devil's Warehouse to pick up some stuff to hopefully arrange my hair when I got to work (with the help of my boss Stalin). I had hopes of the curls falling looser once I had some time to leave it alone. No luck. I ended up rinsing my hair out in the sink in the bathroom and pulling it into a bun. Not nearly as glamorous as I had hoped.
I was crushed. I had hoped to look pretty today, I was having one of those "I need a self esteem boost" days. Yeah..not so much. I ended up nearly in tears, because I'm super vain. Flyguy did his best to comfort me. He told me he thought it had looked pretty. I laughed with one of the girls, its the nice thing about men. They're usually pretty accommodating about telling you that you look okay if you're on the verge of a crying jag.
Cue my first round of customers, who were, in short, awful. I don't normally complain about my guests. I realize everyone has bad days and that sometimes that means that your waitress gets the short end of the stick...but a never ending line of them is terribly disheartening. I had a gentleman (who was terribly old) actually grab my arm to ask me something at just about my worst part of the morning. Anyone who knows me well will understand why I hate being touched by strangers, especially men I don't know. It was only this man's age and a supreme effot at self control that kept him from getting smacked or me screaming. I can't even explain the way it raised hair on my arm to have people I don't know touch me...
Anyway. About this time Kitten dropped by the store to grab a bite to eat and wait for a ride back to our place. Shorty was hosting, and she stopped off at the bar to snatch a couple cookies that Kitten brought in. We were chatting, and trying to keep me from having a panic attack (or Kitten was anyway). Suddenly, Waiting for Tonight by Jennifer Lopez came on the Ambience station that plays in our store. I looked at Kitten and jokingly asked if she wanted to dance. She laughed. We both know because of our store's PDA rules we couldn't even if we wanted to. I asked shorty if she wanted to dance. She told me no, she wasn't in a dancing mood. She more felt like petting Kitten. She was joking. Its hard to translate that kind of come-on to your wife joke into text, but it made me smile.
Then Flyguy wandered up and I asked him if he wanted to dance. As I had predicted to the girls, he did that hip shaking groove with your arms white boy can't dance thing he always does when I ask him that...We were giggling, then he burst into some serious hip thrusting movements that were very...Chippendale. Shorty piped up she could see him doing that in a tool-belt and we were all cracking up, and of course, the visual made Kitten and I blush. Shorty noticed it and gave me a hard time about it. Of course, that made me blush more...and I spent the rest of the afternoon joking with Flyguy about it.
Its things like that that get me through a rough workday. I've got some awesome coworkers. Rather, I should say, I'm lucky to work with people who I consider friends.
Frightening and amusing:
After we got off Flyguy and I ran to the gas station to pick up cigarettes for Shorty because she works all night and she was running out. While I ducked in Flyguy sat in the truck. When I came out he was wearing a cammoflage bandana that he found somewhere int he truck. I have no idea where he got it. If I were more a hostile person I'd wonder why he was digging in the truck, but honestly, I don't care. He comes over to our house enough that if he wanted to snoop and find something truly embarassing, he already would have. Here's the trouble- I had last used that bandanna for a hankercheif when I was sick earlier this month! Go on about how gross I am for leaving it in the truck, I honestly forgot about the damn thing and I'm not normally the one who cleans out the truck so...anyway. Iwas horrified. I plucked it off his head and told him he probably didn't want to be wearing it. Then I explained why. He grinned and said he wasn't worried, it didn't feel wet when he put it on his head.
Its one of the reasons I love him. Honestly, I'm pretty sure most of the other people I know would have been epically grossed out. hell, I was.
Come to think of it, Flyguy's getting a roommate. I should mention that now because I'll be interested to see if it effects how much time he spends with us, since its one of his other pals. Not that I don't want him to have friends, or whatever, but Ithink I've mentioned before I'm a jealopus person, and I might, just maybe, be worried he won't be around as often. I can't have that. I've been missing him too much lately anyway...Iam SUCH a girl sometimes.
In other news, I'm sure you've noticed, I added a few things and changed the layout here. I was getting sick of bubbles. Let's face it, if you got the "Plastic Castle" reference, the bubbles were cute, but if you didn't they might imply that I'm a bubbles kind of girl. Now, I may have plka dots on my bedroom walls, but bubbly really isn't the way I would describe my personality, so a bit of rearranging seemed required. Not to mention, I was sick of looking at it.
I also added a few features. If you're interested in seeing what people read the most frequently, and I always am, I have a rotating bar with the posts that are viewed the most often. There's some suprises in there. I also updated and moved a copy of my first post on this blog to the sidebar, so if you ever get confused with all the names and acronyms and such here, you'll have a chance to sort them out. Also, helpful, I think, for new visitors. Not that I have them all that often...
I added a few new folks to my blogroll too. Carley in Europe is a travel blog my friend Carley is writing. She's a very talented musician with her own record label. I love her to death. I met her through Perpet. We were both attendants at her wedding. Anyway, she's in interesting girl, and I thought it might be worth a share. Sara O is a stand up comic I know who is currently battling cancer. I linked up to her blog, which is ongoing, and shares her experiences as she goes through them. She's a tough and amazing woman, so definately go check her out and leave her some words of encouragement. Finally, I added Waiter Rant, which is the site that inspired the book. I finsihed reading the book recently and I loved it. Some of it was funny, a lot of it was insightful, but what struck me the most was it was such an accurate depiction of what happens to me and my coworkers on a day to day basis it was moving and sometimes a little bit depressing. You can hit any of his backlog on his blogroll and enjoy a very true accoutn of like as a waiter.
Well, that's me. I'm off to go work on some spellwork. Sakura's coming over. Its new moon. I need to be a productive witch.
Cheers, you lot. I love you all.
AGxx
Monday, May 16, 2011
Reflections on Life in Restaurants: a bitch about the job post.
This last week at work has been interesting for me. Part of it is the come-down from what is undoubtably the busiest week of the year for us. Our two busiest days of the year fall within about 4 days of each other every year, and it has a tendency to wear you down. Also, as one of our senior servers, I get to work these days all day long, and that means I make a lot of money. Unfortunately, there's always about ten places to put each dollar, and while it should help, it feels like I am right back in the spot I was before.
The other downside to working those busy days is that the week following seems so slow it hurts. Yes, of course, it is not going to be so busy we have a line out the door, because that doesn't happen very often anyway. The other thing is everyone seems to have gottent heir fill of Mexican food the week prior, so business is even slower.
I've noticed that when its slow you tend to notice things you might not, or things that would normally not bother you begin to grate a lot more quickly than normal. It seems like on the slow days the bad customers are worse than normal, the kids are louder when they acream and the nice tables are fewer and farther in between.
Yesterday was a good example of that. I seemed to have about a 50/50 ratio of really nice people versus people who made me want to throw things at them. Never good. Since I've been making an effort to improve my karma, when I get to work I tell myself that I should only be sending goodness and love out into the world. God will reward me for that. That's what I tell myself. Take care of others, god will take care of you. The problem is I believe, always, that being kind does not necissarily mean being a doormat. I honestly struggled to maintain not just a detachedly polite facade, but one that was plesant and kind. When someone is being rude to you, its a real test.
There are some things as a waitress that just really get on my nerves. My biggest problem is that most customers are totally unaware of their surroundings. On a day when we aren't so busy there's a line out the door, most guests assume that if I am not standing over their table then I must be in the back on my cell phone or in the break room smoking. This is almost never true. If you pay attention to where your server is in a restaurant, you could see this. Most of the time I have two or three other tables at least. In a half hour period, this means I am not only taking care of you (keeping your drinks and chips full, making conversation, taking orders, making deserts and carrying out your food) I am also trying to time it right so that I can do that for a minimum of two or three other sets of people at the same time. That's no easy task.
Yesterday we had a waitress on the other side of the store taking care of a big group. When their food came up in the window I helped her carry it out. By the time I got back to my tables, one of them was angry because their sodas were half full. I didn't feel like I deserved that anger. One, they still had half a soda, two, I was there to check on them for that purpose, to make sure they didn't need anything. It was a struggle for me to not be rude when they got onto me.
Another problem with working in a restaurant like the one I work in is that you have a constant flow of refills. Not just sodas. In a normal restaurant if you don't order appetizers you waitress will probably only stop by once to make sure your sodas or tea is still full. In one like mine, where we serve chips and sala at the table for free (or say, an Italian restaurant that serves bread) people expect you to be there the minute they run out, or even come close. I don't mind keeping the chips and salsa full, that's my job. What I do mind is how much people eat, or demand, when they know its free.
For example, I had a table the other day that had three people at it. They wanted me to bring out enough chips and salsa for 12 people. I wouldn't do it. It goes to waste, and I get in trouble. Most of my customers eat far more than they should. Figure this: a jar of salsa at the store is about a pint. Two of our dishes equals a pint. My average table of 4 will go through a minimum of 6 dishes of salsa. How many of us sit at home and will eat three jars of salsa in the space of less than 15 minutes? Even if you have friends over? Even if you have dinner being made? I think its gross. I can't help it. The same thing goes for people who drink seven or eight sodas in one meal. That's like 4 two-liter bottles. Ew.
Now, there are things that are just plain rude, and I think that they ought to be pointed out; not because my lovely bloggers would ever do anything like this, but because I have to get it off my chest.
When your glass is empty, you don't shake it at the waitress. I told a man one time (not at this job) that to me, that meant he wanted me to take his glass away and not bring him a new one. If you want more chips or salsa and you pick up your dish and wave it at me, I'm going to take it from you. Don't tell me you wanted to keep that one until I brought the new one, if you throw it up in my face, I assume you don't want it anymore.
When I get to the table to greet you, at least wait until I say my name and ask how you are to start sking for things. There is nothing I dislike more than to be at a table, trying to be pleasant, and then to be interrupted mid-sentence with "Water with two lemons, and we need more chips. A lot more chips." Seriously? Its rude.
Here's the big one for me lately: if you have a coupon, say $5 off your meal, tip at least the amount of the discount if your service was acceptable. Waitresses hate coupons laying on the table, because normally it means we aren't going to be tipped.
Oh, and on tipping. I don't know who spread this rumor, but outside of maybe two states in the entire US waitresses don't make minimum wage. For example, I make $3.25 an hour. Not even half of minimum wage. I do actually need you to tip me. I woldn't be nearly as plesant when your screaming child throws Jello at me if I wasn't dependent on you for my wage. In my world, in most restaurants, if the service is adequate leave 15%. If the service was good, leave 20% If the service was stellar, leave more. When you do that and come back, your waitress will remember you and will take good care of you every time. She is also more likely to tell you about specials, or hook you up with discounts or free stuff. If you take care of your waitress, she will take care of you. Under only the most EXTREME cicumstances do you not leave a tip. If it is so bad you will never eat in that restaurant again, then consider it. Otherwise, leave at least the $3 or whatever to make the girl up to minimum wage. Its a bad tip, and she knows it, but you aren't putting her in a hardship. Tell her, in fact, to her face (POLITELY) if she asks if things could have been better, or how she was doing, how to make things better. Or talk to her manager, and tell them, (POLITELY) how this server could be guided to improve so you will enjoy your experience more.
Also, remember this, waitresses are people too. We have feelings. You can hurt them. If you're having a bad day and you take it out on us, we will be offended or hurt. Remember that a lot of us are going through college, or are trying to get into college, or get back in. We have families to support and lives outside of work. I might be stressed because of Kitten's finals. Maybe my cat died, or my mom doesn't have somewhere to live and she wants me to support her. Maybe my best friend just moved away and I don't have an emotional support system like I used to. Maybe your special order made my cooks mad and I got yelled at for it, even though it wasn't my fault.
There are a lot of things going on in my head during a workday, and most of them don't have to do with your Pepsi refill or whether your burrito took 5 minutes to make or 10. I can't tell you the amount of times, even in the last month, that I or one of my staff was reduced to tears because one of our customers was cruel to us. We have a fabulous girl at work who just became a mother for the second time. She actually had a table yell at her and upset her. What they didn't know was she was busy dealing with our terrible insurance to take care of her doctor bills, and that even though she made the effort to look beautiful like she always does, she came to work with less than 2 hours of sleep because the baby was up all night. Why did she deserve to be yelled at? She didn't. You know what the woman was mad about? She had arrived to her table after the rest of the party and she didn't have her own salsa dish. She had to wait maybe 5 minutes for one rather than share. See, to me, I don't see how that should bring on a screaming tirade in front of a dining room full of people, solely for the intent of humiliating that poor girl. Its not her fault.
I change clothes every day at work. (Why do I make this point you wonder? I'll tell you) I spend six days a week in my restaurant. I live in my work uniform. Thing is, I don't think most of my guests ever think of me outside of my blue or red polo and black pants. Yesterday I changed into a pair of high heels, capris and a brown and pink chiffon dress over it before I lef.t I took down my hair, and put on some lip gloss. When I was leaving to go get Kitten, two of our regular (but not MY regular) customers were coming in. You should have seen their faces. They actually stopped the hostess so they could make me turn around and let them look at me. They were astounded. You see, as nice as they are, I don't think it ever occured to them that I might not always wear my uniform. They never thought that maybe outside of work I could be a pretty girl, or wear dresses and high heels. They never think to see me that way. The funny thing is, not five minutes before that I was talking to one of my co-workers after I changed clothes. She asked why I always do. I told ehr its because when I am not on the clock, I feel more human in my dresses and heels. I feel like a real person who has more in their life than their apron and slip-proof sneakers. I think these people proved my point.
I love my job most days. I have overcome my natural shyness and I like working with people. I like most of my coworkers. I love my regular customers. In fact, a couple of them follow this blog. It means a lot to me. They take good care of me, they care about my life, they are involved in me more than just whether or not I can serve their tacos. That makes a difference to me. I'd say that these people get better service from me 90% of the time. They deserve it. The nice thing is, if I am getting my ass kicked, they see it, because they know me, and I don't get punished like other servers might, because they know if I had the choice, I'd be at their table asking about their kids and their businesses and their latest projects. These are the customers in my store that we fight over. I even have a few regulars whom I love, but who will sit with anyone, becaue they get great service no matter who they get. When they come in, the other servers will come to me, and some of the other crew members, and tell them they are in so that we can stop by and say hello. That's a good customer.
I digress. Most days i like my job. I like my boss. I like my coworkers. Most of the time, I like my customers. Its the few bad apples that can really spoil a day. I always tell my new kids two things: first is that you can't let one table spoil your whole day. If you do, then your next regular may be at the next table, and you might blow it because you're still upset about the last one. You won't make any money that way. You can't. You have to let it go, however hard it might be. The other thing I tell them is to not get mad or upset. Not on the clock. Unless things go really wrong, they're going to get some money from a table. It might not be what they deserve, or what they would like, but its something. Its more than they had before. I tell them to cry, or cuss, or scream; but to do it after work on the way to the bank. In the end, if you got the moeny, that's all that counts.
Teh sad thing is, that's advice that's really hard to take. Especially this last week. We'll see how I do this time.
Sprry to bitch about Casa Bueno, I don't do it often, but it seems to be weighing on me this week, and getting it off my chest here is better than getting it off my chest other places.
Love you all. I'll try to post something amusing tomorrow. If anyone has an idea, let me know. I'm all tapped out for dry humor, it seems.
Lots of love,
AGxx
The other downside to working those busy days is that the week following seems so slow it hurts. Yes, of course, it is not going to be so busy we have a line out the door, because that doesn't happen very often anyway. The other thing is everyone seems to have gottent heir fill of Mexican food the week prior, so business is even slower.
I've noticed that when its slow you tend to notice things you might not, or things that would normally not bother you begin to grate a lot more quickly than normal. It seems like on the slow days the bad customers are worse than normal, the kids are louder when they acream and the nice tables are fewer and farther in between.
Yesterday was a good example of that. I seemed to have about a 50/50 ratio of really nice people versus people who made me want to throw things at them. Never good. Since I've been making an effort to improve my karma, when I get to work I tell myself that I should only be sending goodness and love out into the world. God will reward me for that. That's what I tell myself. Take care of others, god will take care of you. The problem is I believe, always, that being kind does not necissarily mean being a doormat. I honestly struggled to maintain not just a detachedly polite facade, but one that was plesant and kind. When someone is being rude to you, its a real test.
There are some things as a waitress that just really get on my nerves. My biggest problem is that most customers are totally unaware of their surroundings. On a day when we aren't so busy there's a line out the door, most guests assume that if I am not standing over their table then I must be in the back on my cell phone or in the break room smoking. This is almost never true. If you pay attention to where your server is in a restaurant, you could see this. Most of the time I have two or three other tables at least. In a half hour period, this means I am not only taking care of you (keeping your drinks and chips full, making conversation, taking orders, making deserts and carrying out your food) I am also trying to time it right so that I can do that for a minimum of two or three other sets of people at the same time. That's no easy task.
Yesterday we had a waitress on the other side of the store taking care of a big group. When their food came up in the window I helped her carry it out. By the time I got back to my tables, one of them was angry because their sodas were half full. I didn't feel like I deserved that anger. One, they still had half a soda, two, I was there to check on them for that purpose, to make sure they didn't need anything. It was a struggle for me to not be rude when they got onto me.
Another problem with working in a restaurant like the one I work in is that you have a constant flow of refills. Not just sodas. In a normal restaurant if you don't order appetizers you waitress will probably only stop by once to make sure your sodas or tea is still full. In one like mine, where we serve chips and sala at the table for free (or say, an Italian restaurant that serves bread) people expect you to be there the minute they run out, or even come close. I don't mind keeping the chips and salsa full, that's my job. What I do mind is how much people eat, or demand, when they know its free.
For example, I had a table the other day that had three people at it. They wanted me to bring out enough chips and salsa for 12 people. I wouldn't do it. It goes to waste, and I get in trouble. Most of my customers eat far more than they should. Figure this: a jar of salsa at the store is about a pint. Two of our dishes equals a pint. My average table of 4 will go through a minimum of 6 dishes of salsa. How many of us sit at home and will eat three jars of salsa in the space of less than 15 minutes? Even if you have friends over? Even if you have dinner being made? I think its gross. I can't help it. The same thing goes for people who drink seven or eight sodas in one meal. That's like 4 two-liter bottles. Ew.
Now, there are things that are just plain rude, and I think that they ought to be pointed out; not because my lovely bloggers would ever do anything like this, but because I have to get it off my chest.
When your glass is empty, you don't shake it at the waitress. I told a man one time (not at this job) that to me, that meant he wanted me to take his glass away and not bring him a new one. If you want more chips or salsa and you pick up your dish and wave it at me, I'm going to take it from you. Don't tell me you wanted to keep that one until I brought the new one, if you throw it up in my face, I assume you don't want it anymore.
When I get to the table to greet you, at least wait until I say my name and ask how you are to start sking for things. There is nothing I dislike more than to be at a table, trying to be pleasant, and then to be interrupted mid-sentence with "Water with two lemons, and we need more chips. A lot more chips." Seriously? Its rude.
Here's the big one for me lately: if you have a coupon, say $5 off your meal, tip at least the amount of the discount if your service was acceptable. Waitresses hate coupons laying on the table, because normally it means we aren't going to be tipped.
Oh, and on tipping. I don't know who spread this rumor, but outside of maybe two states in the entire US waitresses don't make minimum wage. For example, I make $3.25 an hour. Not even half of minimum wage. I do actually need you to tip me. I woldn't be nearly as plesant when your screaming child throws Jello at me if I wasn't dependent on you for my wage. In my world, in most restaurants, if the service is adequate leave 15%. If the service was good, leave 20% If the service was stellar, leave more. When you do that and come back, your waitress will remember you and will take good care of you every time. She is also more likely to tell you about specials, or hook you up with discounts or free stuff. If you take care of your waitress, she will take care of you. Under only the most EXTREME cicumstances do you not leave a tip. If it is so bad you will never eat in that restaurant again, then consider it. Otherwise, leave at least the $3 or whatever to make the girl up to minimum wage. Its a bad tip, and she knows it, but you aren't putting her in a hardship. Tell her, in fact, to her face (POLITELY) if she asks if things could have been better, or how she was doing, how to make things better. Or talk to her manager, and tell them, (POLITELY) how this server could be guided to improve so you will enjoy your experience more.
Also, remember this, waitresses are people too. We have feelings. You can hurt them. If you're having a bad day and you take it out on us, we will be offended or hurt. Remember that a lot of us are going through college, or are trying to get into college, or get back in. We have families to support and lives outside of work. I might be stressed because of Kitten's finals. Maybe my cat died, or my mom doesn't have somewhere to live and she wants me to support her. Maybe my best friend just moved away and I don't have an emotional support system like I used to. Maybe your special order made my cooks mad and I got yelled at for it, even though it wasn't my fault.
There are a lot of things going on in my head during a workday, and most of them don't have to do with your Pepsi refill or whether your burrito took 5 minutes to make or 10. I can't tell you the amount of times, even in the last month, that I or one of my staff was reduced to tears because one of our customers was cruel to us. We have a fabulous girl at work who just became a mother for the second time. She actually had a table yell at her and upset her. What they didn't know was she was busy dealing with our terrible insurance to take care of her doctor bills, and that even though she made the effort to look beautiful like she always does, she came to work with less than 2 hours of sleep because the baby was up all night. Why did she deserve to be yelled at? She didn't. You know what the woman was mad about? She had arrived to her table after the rest of the party and she didn't have her own salsa dish. She had to wait maybe 5 minutes for one rather than share. See, to me, I don't see how that should bring on a screaming tirade in front of a dining room full of people, solely for the intent of humiliating that poor girl. Its not her fault.
I change clothes every day at work. (Why do I make this point you wonder? I'll tell you) I spend six days a week in my restaurant. I live in my work uniform. Thing is, I don't think most of my guests ever think of me outside of my blue or red polo and black pants. Yesterday I changed into a pair of high heels, capris and a brown and pink chiffon dress over it before I lef.t I took down my hair, and put on some lip gloss. When I was leaving to go get Kitten, two of our regular (but not MY regular) customers were coming in. You should have seen their faces. They actually stopped the hostess so they could make me turn around and let them look at me. They were astounded. You see, as nice as they are, I don't think it ever occured to them that I might not always wear my uniform. They never thought that maybe outside of work I could be a pretty girl, or wear dresses and high heels. They never think to see me that way. The funny thing is, not five minutes before that I was talking to one of my co-workers after I changed clothes. She asked why I always do. I told ehr its because when I am not on the clock, I feel more human in my dresses and heels. I feel like a real person who has more in their life than their apron and slip-proof sneakers. I think these people proved my point.
I love my job most days. I have overcome my natural shyness and I like working with people. I like most of my coworkers. I love my regular customers. In fact, a couple of them follow this blog. It means a lot to me. They take good care of me, they care about my life, they are involved in me more than just whether or not I can serve their tacos. That makes a difference to me. I'd say that these people get better service from me 90% of the time. They deserve it. The nice thing is, if I am getting my ass kicked, they see it, because they know me, and I don't get punished like other servers might, because they know if I had the choice, I'd be at their table asking about their kids and their businesses and their latest projects. These are the customers in my store that we fight over. I even have a few regulars whom I love, but who will sit with anyone, becaue they get great service no matter who they get. When they come in, the other servers will come to me, and some of the other crew members, and tell them they are in so that we can stop by and say hello. That's a good customer.
I digress. Most days i like my job. I like my boss. I like my coworkers. Most of the time, I like my customers. Its the few bad apples that can really spoil a day. I always tell my new kids two things: first is that you can't let one table spoil your whole day. If you do, then your next regular may be at the next table, and you might blow it because you're still upset about the last one. You won't make any money that way. You can't. You have to let it go, however hard it might be. The other thing I tell them is to not get mad or upset. Not on the clock. Unless things go really wrong, they're going to get some money from a table. It might not be what they deserve, or what they would like, but its something. Its more than they had before. I tell them to cry, or cuss, or scream; but to do it after work on the way to the bank. In the end, if you got the moeny, that's all that counts.
Teh sad thing is, that's advice that's really hard to take. Especially this last week. We'll see how I do this time.
Sprry to bitch about Casa Bueno, I don't do it often, but it seems to be weighing on me this week, and getting it off my chest here is better than getting it off my chest other places.
Love you all. I'll try to post something amusing tomorrow. If anyone has an idea, let me know. I'm all tapped out for dry humor, it seems.
Lots of love,
AGxx
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