The skies opened up today. Grey clouds parted and sun shone through as the finger of God reached down to touch me gently on the forehead. He brushed the hair and sleep out of my eyes and and said unto me, "Bitch, get your ass up. You gotta go to work today." Yes, someone swallowed all the bullshit that spewed out of my mouth during a job interview and they gave me a starting date for employment. The Bitchy Waiter serves again.
Today will be my trailing shift to see if the restaurant and I are a good fit. Basically, I will follow a server around while he tells me the ins and outs of the job and then at the end of the day I will do all his crappiest sidework for him and get no tips. Hopefully, there will be some minimum wage involved, but you just never know. Sometimes they will pay you with a meal or just a big hearty "thanks, but no thanks." But my new job is not in a restaurant. It is in a swanky cabaret club where I will be serving cocktails to poor schlubs who have to meet the two-drink minimum while they listen to a show. When I say swanky I mean swanky. Like they have candles and shit. And they don't have a kitchen which sorta gives me a semi-hard-on of excitement. Any food that is ordered is of the light fare variety and is catered in. Tingles of joy run down my spine at having no ketchup bottles in my immediate future. Now don't get me wrong. This is a trailing shift and could be my last one if they decide that I suck. At waiting tables, I mean. Or maybe I will get there and realize that the tips are really really bad and I have to be there for nine hours to walk with only $40. Only time will tell.
But this could be the beginning of a new dawn. An age where I enjoy carrying trays of over priced cocktails and I look forward to slicing fruit. I may have found my new calling as a cocktail server. I see myself eagerly trotting to work each night giddy with anticipation to wait tables because my new place of employment treats me with respect and the customers all love how I do my job and they throw piles of twenty dollar bills at me. I would then be known as The Happy Waiter or The Satisfied Waiter or The Euphoric Waiter. Or it could just be the same ol' same ol' job of waiting tables and The Bitchy Waiter will reign supreme forever and ever.
Amen.
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7 comments:
As much as I love your being the "bitchy" waiter, I hope the job is great. Besides, even the best job will still give you something to bitch about.
Best of luck, bitchy waiter. Dont we all DREAM of the perfect job where mgment and customers treat us like we are awesome. Im hoping this happens to you.....we are all waiting with baited breath to hear the results !!!!!
Damn. Congrats. But I must say, if it works out, my hope is that you will STILL have bitchy anecdotes to share!
Hope the job is great, but don't get your hopes up too high in the respect department. ;)
Hi, I've been reading Your blog and a couple of others for a looong time now, but this is my first comment on one of them. So behold! and see how much I want this to work for you! Actually, this sounds like a great place to me! No food, plus You'll probably end up bonding with the stage people, after-shifts drinks and all.
OR ... it's areally shabby place. We don't know. So pleeeeze tell us all about it!!!
Sounds different being a cocktail waiter. Should be good , best wishes with that one.
Heh. Cocktailing is a bitch. Smaller tickets for more work, dumping a plate of lobsters is as easy as running cocktails. Good luck to you.
I went from server to bartender in my time. I am not pretty enough to cocktail.
Why don't you try to get a bartenders gig on your experience? You may think that shot and a beer bars are below you, but you can make serious bank.
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