this reads like a book
it's 555 am and I'm pulling into an alley to park my car - god i hate city parking, 2 hour meters, parking lots, all wanting exuberant amounts of money..nothing for free...the alley i park in I'm likely to get a ticket, the 20 minute unloading zone signs scatter the curb but don't properly label where to and from, so i use this as my escape goat.
it's too early to be at work right now the sun's still asleep, the restaurant lifestyle is not conducive to breakfast shifts. i thought the last breakfast I'd ever have to work was on the cruise ship, hell, that was the first time i realized there were breakfast shifts. For all you servers out there, thank your lucky stars you don't have to put up with this shit. as a reward for waking up on time i stop on over to the Dunkin Donuts recently constructed on the corner from my workplace. it in itself is a double reward made in part by my pastry selection, the much coveted vanilla creamed manager's special. very similar to the Bavarian creme filled, these on the other hand are chockabok full of a creamier , less gelatin inner..they are hard to come by because the store will only make so many "shells" as they are called for the day, and when they are put out, they fly off the shelves, there would be no chance of me getting any if i were to work a lunch shift.
i make the donut purchase and head into work, it's gonna be a long day but i try to make the most of it..like a drone i get right into the motions of brewing coffee, making bread plates, butter sets, the norm for breakfast; the other person who managed to pull themselves out of bed for this god awful shift takes sugar caddies out to the tables and sets up the patio...i like to keep busy so after the initial breakfast setup is complete i like to knock out the lunch pre-shift duties as well, gotta keep myself busy, gotta keep my mind off certain things...
the time nears close to 8am and i am winding down cutting lemons, i take this moment to pause and enjoy my breakfast, a donut and Gatorade, if America runs on dunkin, i got the Gatorade to replenish those electrolytes..I'm half way through my meal when i see Shelly come around the corner to tell me i got a table. Shelly's another body crudely brought into work this shift, she's a new hostess so she gets the ass end of the shifts, mainly the mind-numbing breakfasts...
i put down the pastry and take one more swig from the bottle..as i head on out to greet the table i check to make sure i am actually in uniform, wiping off the powdered sugar in the process..jacket buttoned, tie on, whoops, forgot my apron, no biggie..i pour water for the guest who has excused himself to the restroom, i gather that much without his presence from the fact all his belongings were still on the table, so i go back to the kitchen to don an apron.
i grab an apron from the stack and walk away, upon unfolding it i see that someone has tied the strings into a knot. i go to undo the problem, but quickly rationalize it is too early to fiddle with tossing it in the linen basket and go back for a second one..ahhh, much better, now back to the lemons. Servers have a sixth sense about them when it comes to the industry, it's like they have a built in sensor to let them know when their food is up, or when a table will need refills, or when a table is ready to order, pay, whatever, today in my case, when the guest has returned.
i slice some lemons thinking about my blog, what i am doing it for, what i wanna write, where the direction is going, all that shit..its not long before i decide to check on Mr PeePee. I turn the corner to see my gentleman just sitting down, perfect timing, i greet him, offer another beverage and he gives me his order..i go to the POS terminal and realize i have yet to clock in, great..there's a couple hours out of my life I'll never get back..
breakfast entrees are cooked relatively quickly, so i wait just a few moments, the order comes up, and i deliver the food..i return to the kitchen and continue where i left off on my pastry delight. my mind still wanders over the website, how i wanna go about it, even as i stand here and eat my breakfast I'm actually taking notes on the very thing you are reading. it's kinda exciting to have something back like this, also knowing i have a small fan base..i call them fans, you call yourself readers, whatever helps us sleep at night, and for me..well, i need a lot more than that.
those of you who have read the Waiter Rant probably will see similarities between his writing and mine - it's kind of hard not to assimilate due to the fact we are in the same setting, using the same forum...as soon as i start reading a book i spend the rest of time with an inner monologue, like i am narrating a book to myself, as if i am a character off the pages of a book...i guess it helps with the writing..
my moment of zen was interrupted by Shelly telling me i just got another table, another one top, he wants an orange juice and he's in a hurry. I greet him, pour him water, address i know he's in a hurry and ask for his order.
"How long does it take to get a meal here?" asks the gentleman
"Our chefs generally expedite the breakfast entrees in a prompt fashion" i reply half expecting him to now order the steak and eggs well done.
"well what about the waffle and pancakes, which is quicker" the man interjects
knowing it only takes three minutes to make waffles from my cruiseline experience i figure pancakes should be the same, "about the same time sir"
"well, what about this...yeah, I'll go with that, i just want something light anyways" the man says pointing to the Healthy Start option.
"Excellent choice sir, I'll have that and your orange juice out to you momentarily" i say, removing the menus and begin to trot off.
"Don't forget my juice" the man yells to me in the distance. i shudder. this man just broke a cardinal rule of being waited on, listen to your fucking server..not only that, but he ordered the one item i am in control of making.
Now instead of being a dick and invoking a little server revenge, i just want to get this guy his food and send him on his bloody way, less time with me makes me a happier me. i make up everything and head on out to deliver it, upon dropping it off i see that i got sat with my third table, another single. As i greet this guy i feel warmed up to him already, maybe the other tables were enough to get me going, we joke and it's light hearted, he order the waffles and i ring it in.
i go to the host stand to check on Shelly and read the papers...its the only thing you can do to keep yourself awake at this hour, conversations are minimal as everybody is still trying to wake up. my other two tables are ready to pay now and I'm still waiting on my third tables food..process the room charges, reset the tables, still waiting...i go to the kitchen and ask where my waffle is, i check the ticket to see the time of when i rang it in..10 minutes ago...10 minutes on a waffle...good thing table 2 didn't order that.
the restaurant clears out, our rush for the day is over..sure we're likely to see a couple more tables wander in, but the pop is over, as sad as that is. Shelly and i sit down to eat our breakfasts together. we talk about random things, still getting to know one another, standard stuff people talk about. i give her the quick run down on where i been and bless her heart she said i didn't look a day over 24..i still take it as a compliment. i know these looks won't last forever, i know the stress of my life is gonna soon catch up with my face - granted i may be a baby now, but the crow's feet are already settling in. i feel old next to her youthfulness, in reality its not much older, but in a developmental stand point it is...she's still gonna go through things and experience life, make bad choices, and age with wisdom. I've been there, I've done all that, not saying i don't have anything more to learn, I've just gone through the standard adjustments in life..age is only a factor when you're young..you put the two of us side by side in ten years, then there's no problem
this realization makes me think about my most recent relationship, why it may not have worked out...I've always viewed myself as being a lot younger than my actual age...25? no, more like 21, if that...granted i don't go out and party like a 21 year old, my mental state would make you think otherwise. and i partly blame myself for the whole relationship...sure she was young, and i thought i knew better than to get myself involved in a non-fullydevoloped woman, but i was made to believe that things were different this time.
it's funny how the older i have become, the more jaded i got as well, i think that's a standard related ratio comparison easily graphed for anyone. i would look back on a time when i was younger and love was blind, now i know why they say foolish young love...young love is the best and purest forms of love i have found to exist..it may not be based on the best facts or held together in the best way, but it is what is it, unbreakable (to an extent). how many of you still love your first loves, and how many are still with your first loves, exactly my point. i could get high off that shit - if you bottled it, you'd make a fortune...
There came a point somewhere after the Bloo move i wanted to go back to a time i beleived in love like that, where you'd do anything for that special someone, where you haphazardly built your world around the one you loved, back to a time of 'love in the raw' (hey, there's the marketing camapign name for youglove when bottled, a spin-off of Sugar in the Raw)...and then i thought i had a chance at that all over again with my last girlfriend. i moved, there was love, no mater how we each faulted we were both crazy about one another...but again i find out why they call it foolish young love as i collect yet another chip into my heart of stone.
Shelly scrapes the last bit of egg off her plate which jolts me out of my thoughts, she had been talking the entire time, or maybe i had, the last thing i remember telling her was about moving in with my ex-best friend's ex-girlfriend. there's a pause as she downs the last bite, then she turns to me and says, "everybody's smart, until they fall in love" We gather the plates from the room and clean up our mess, i go back to working on the lemons i left awhile ago. i hate working breakfasts
it's too early to be at work right now the sun's still asleep, the restaurant lifestyle is not conducive to breakfast shifts. i thought the last breakfast I'd ever have to work was on the cruise ship, hell, that was the first time i realized there were breakfast shifts. For all you servers out there, thank your lucky stars you don't have to put up with this shit. as a reward for waking up on time i stop on over to the Dunkin Donuts recently constructed on the corner from my workplace. it in itself is a double reward made in part by my pastry selection, the much coveted vanilla creamed manager's special. very similar to the Bavarian creme filled, these on the other hand are chockabok full of a creamier , less gelatin inner..they are hard to come by because the store will only make so many "shells" as they are called for the day, and when they are put out, they fly off the shelves, there would be no chance of me getting any if i were to work a lunch shift.
i make the donut purchase and head into work, it's gonna be a long day but i try to make the most of it..like a drone i get right into the motions of brewing coffee, making bread plates, butter sets, the norm for breakfast; the other person who managed to pull themselves out of bed for this god awful shift takes sugar caddies out to the tables and sets up the patio...i like to keep busy so after the initial breakfast setup is complete i like to knock out the lunch pre-shift duties as well, gotta keep myself busy, gotta keep my mind off certain things...
the time nears close to 8am and i am winding down cutting lemons, i take this moment to pause and enjoy my breakfast, a donut and Gatorade, if America runs on dunkin, i got the Gatorade to replenish those electrolytes..I'm half way through my meal when i see Shelly come around the corner to tell me i got a table. Shelly's another body crudely brought into work this shift, she's a new hostess so she gets the ass end of the shifts, mainly the mind-numbing breakfasts...
i put down the pastry and take one more swig from the bottle..as i head on out to greet the table i check to make sure i am actually in uniform, wiping off the powdered sugar in the process..jacket buttoned, tie on, whoops, forgot my apron, no biggie..i pour water for the guest who has excused himself to the restroom, i gather that much without his presence from the fact all his belongings were still on the table, so i go back to the kitchen to don an apron.
i grab an apron from the stack and walk away, upon unfolding it i see that someone has tied the strings into a knot. i go to undo the problem, but quickly rationalize it is too early to fiddle with tossing it in the linen basket and go back for a second one..ahhh, much better, now back to the lemons. Servers have a sixth sense about them when it comes to the industry, it's like they have a built in sensor to let them know when their food is up, or when a table will need refills, or when a table is ready to order, pay, whatever, today in my case, when the guest has returned.
i slice some lemons thinking about my blog, what i am doing it for, what i wanna write, where the direction is going, all that shit..its not long before i decide to check on Mr PeePee. I turn the corner to see my gentleman just sitting down, perfect timing, i greet him, offer another beverage and he gives me his order..i go to the POS terminal and realize i have yet to clock in, great..there's a couple hours out of my life I'll never get back..
breakfast entrees are cooked relatively quickly, so i wait just a few moments, the order comes up, and i deliver the food..i return to the kitchen and continue where i left off on my pastry delight. my mind still wanders over the website, how i wanna go about it, even as i stand here and eat my breakfast I'm actually taking notes on the very thing you are reading. it's kinda exciting to have something back like this, also knowing i have a small fan base..i call them fans, you call yourself readers, whatever helps us sleep at night, and for me..well, i need a lot more than that.
those of you who have read the Waiter Rant probably will see similarities between his writing and mine - it's kind of hard not to assimilate due to the fact we are in the same setting, using the same forum...as soon as i start reading a book i spend the rest of time with an inner monologue, like i am narrating a book to myself, as if i am a character off the pages of a book...i guess it helps with the writing..
my moment of zen was interrupted by Shelly telling me i just got another table, another one top, he wants an orange juice and he's in a hurry. I greet him, pour him water, address i know he's in a hurry and ask for his order.
"How long does it take to get a meal here?" asks the gentleman
"Our chefs generally expedite the breakfast entrees in a prompt fashion" i reply half expecting him to now order the steak and eggs well done.
"well what about the waffle and pancakes, which is quicker" the man interjects
knowing it only takes three minutes to make waffles from my cruiseline experience i figure pancakes should be the same, "about the same time sir"
"well, what about this...yeah, I'll go with that, i just want something light anyways" the man says pointing to the Healthy Start option.
"Excellent choice sir, I'll have that and your orange juice out to you momentarily" i say, removing the menus and begin to trot off.
"Don't forget my juice" the man yells to me in the distance. i shudder. this man just broke a cardinal rule of being waited on, listen to your fucking server..not only that, but he ordered the one item i am in control of making.
Now instead of being a dick and invoking a little server revenge, i just want to get this guy his food and send him on his bloody way, less time with me makes me a happier me. i make up everything and head on out to deliver it, upon dropping it off i see that i got sat with my third table, another single. As i greet this guy i feel warmed up to him already, maybe the other tables were enough to get me going, we joke and it's light hearted, he order the waffles and i ring it in.
i go to the host stand to check on Shelly and read the papers...its the only thing you can do to keep yourself awake at this hour, conversations are minimal as everybody is still trying to wake up. my other two tables are ready to pay now and I'm still waiting on my third tables food..process the room charges, reset the tables, still waiting...i go to the kitchen and ask where my waffle is, i check the ticket to see the time of when i rang it in..10 minutes ago...10 minutes on a waffle...good thing table 2 didn't order that.
the restaurant clears out, our rush for the day is over..sure we're likely to see a couple more tables wander in, but the pop is over, as sad as that is. Shelly and i sit down to eat our breakfasts together. we talk about random things, still getting to know one another, standard stuff people talk about. i give her the quick run down on where i been and bless her heart she said i didn't look a day over 24..i still take it as a compliment. i know these looks won't last forever, i know the stress of my life is gonna soon catch up with my face - granted i may be a baby now, but the crow's feet are already settling in. i feel old next to her youthfulness, in reality its not much older, but in a developmental stand point it is...she's still gonna go through things and experience life, make bad choices, and age with wisdom. I've been there, I've done all that, not saying i don't have anything more to learn, I've just gone through the standard adjustments in life..age is only a factor when you're young..you put the two of us side by side in ten years, then there's no problem
this realization makes me think about my most recent relationship, why it may not have worked out...I've always viewed myself as being a lot younger than my actual age...25? no, more like 21, if that...granted i don't go out and party like a 21 year old, my mental state would make you think otherwise. and i partly blame myself for the whole relationship...sure she was young, and i thought i knew better than to get myself involved in a non-fullydevoloped woman, but i was made to believe that things were different this time.
it's funny how the older i have become, the more jaded i got as well, i think that's a standard related ratio comparison easily graphed for anyone. i would look back on a time when i was younger and love was blind, now i know why they say foolish young love...young love is the best and purest forms of love i have found to exist..it may not be based on the best facts or held together in the best way, but it is what is it, unbreakable (to an extent). how many of you still love your first loves, and how many are still with your first loves, exactly my point. i could get high off that shit - if you bottled it, you'd make a fortune...
There came a point somewhere after the Bloo move i wanted to go back to a time i beleived in love like that, where you'd do anything for that special someone, where you haphazardly built your world around the one you loved, back to a time of 'love in the raw' (hey, there's the marketing camapign name for youglove when bottled, a spin-off of Sugar in the Raw)...and then i thought i had a chance at that all over again with my last girlfriend. i moved, there was love, no mater how we each faulted we were both crazy about one another...but again i find out why they call it foolish young love as i collect yet another chip into my heart of stone.
Shelly scrapes the last bit of egg off her plate which jolts me out of my thoughts, she had been talking the entire time, or maybe i had, the last thing i remember telling her was about moving in with my ex-best friend's ex-girlfriend. there's a pause as she downs the last bite, then she turns to me and says, "everybody's smart, until they fall in love" We gather the plates from the room and clean up our mess, i go back to working on the lemons i left awhile ago. i hate working breakfasts
"The best pair of titties are the ones that are in your hands"
3 comments:
u should write a book
thanks for the support....i almost wanna disable anonymous posts now...nothing personal, i just liked to know who you are
This IS written like The Waiter....
Post a Comment