I'll have the humiliation...grilled-please, oh, and a side of self loathing.

"If you don't know where you are going, you can never get lost."

Herb Cohen

As is evident from my last post, I've picked up a serving gig.  Based on the current state of the economy ensuring my inability to get a "career job" ANYWHERE, it was the only logical thing for me to do.  

Ok so that makes the industry sound terrible.  It really isn't.  A few of my friends love serving.  It makes them feel free of corporate America.  It is a great way to socialize.  The difference with me is that I'm not particularly extroverted.  It isn't that I don't enjoy being around people, I just tend to be the listener as opposed to the talker.  And in regard to corporate America-it hasn't turned me off yet.  In fact, I'd be elated to work somewhere where I could actually sit down.  Call me strange, but I would love to stare at a computer screen and not talk to anyone for hours.  But most of all, the words corporate America tend to be affiliated with two words that are sure to get me all hot and bothered: Health Insurance (There was a time very recent history that I was seriously considering joining the national guard because it ensured a steady paycheck with benefits.  True story.  Ask Love).  The only reason why I tolerate serving is that it is better money than lots of other things I could do.  Until now, the reasons why I chose to wait tables were nothing more than the fact that I was doing something more important (?) with my life (school), and I needed a semi-flexible, decent paying job in order to finance that.  If someone had told me a year ago, when I was finishing up grad school, that I would be a waitress at the end of 2008 I probably would have been dumbfounded and inconsolable. 

The times when I find it to be especially terrible are the occasions when I wait on someone from high school's younger sibling.  It always seems to be the ones who discuss their 401Ks (not that there is much hope for those at the moment, but still...I've never had one) and their recent real estate purchases.  It is also really obnoxious when people ask me "if" I went to college, and then assume that I did not finish and am therefore incapable of doing anything more than serve them seven refills of ice tea.  One of these days I'll exchange my "yes, AND I have an MFA" for what they really want to hear.  "No, I actually decided that college wasn't for me and have spent the last several years as a stripper, mothering two illegitimate children (from two different fathers) who are actually in the kitchen cooking your cheesesteak as we speak.  Even at age 7, little Johnny sure is great on the deep fryer.  I'm sure he'll get promoted to prep when he grows up."  I am living testament that "college" is nothing more than an expensive piece of paper that does not ensure an edge over anyone else.  Frankly I find it pretty obnoxious that there is such an emphasis on the need to go to college despite the fact that it is not universally accessible to every young person-but that is a topic for another blog.

To sum it all up, I don't particularly like waitressing.  But none of the previously listed experiences could have prepared me for what I encountered today.

I'll start with a little history.  During the last month or so of college at UMD and part of the following summer I was dating a guy we will affectionately call "Chief."  Chief was a guy who would take me out to dinner and denounce me for things like being a Democrat and an artist.  He was a big talker and always had a knack at making me feel wholly inadequate.  For the record, my short lived "relationship" with Chief was my first after ending things with a guy who accused me of having "no personality," and so my self doubt was still at an all time high.  Chief ultimately broke my heart when he announced, after a few months of dating, that he wasn't interested in anything "serious."  My ONLY saving grace was that I never made any attempt to contact him after that.  No drunken, 3 am phone calls, no "happy birthday" texts, nothing.  Thank you Katie, for doing SOMETHING right.

Fast forward to 1:30 pm today.

After a very disappointing week (I ended up not getting a job that I really wanted-that, in my opinion, I would have been perfect for-that had been a month long interview/application process) I could think of no one I would want to see less (ESPECIALLY in a setting where I was doing anything less than holding an extremely high paying and well respected position at a highly acclaimed place of employment) than Chief.  But there he was.  In the pub...where I am a waitress.  I saw his reflection in a mirror as I carried a pile of dirty dishes to the kitchen.  And his reflection was, indeed, sitting in MY section.  

I wanted to die.

There was no way I could get rid of the table.  There was no point in trying.  After a few deep breaths and a couple of "are you f-ing kidding me?'s" I walked over...with menus.  

He was DELIGHTED to see me.  He introduced me to his boss.  Apparently, they were having a little holiday lunch.  How cute.  I did my best to not seem annoyed by his presence and I think I did an exceptionally good job at curbing my sarcasm...even when his boss complimented my jade bracelet and told me it was very "Hawaiian."  "Give me a hug!" he gushed as he left, "It is so good to see you!"  I smiled wider than what would have been normal in order to conceal the fact that I did not feel the same.  At all.

 I mean...it wasn't all bad.  I think I've lost weight since the last time I saw him, so that was some solace.  And there is no doubt in my mind that I am much happier and better off, even as a waitress, with a guy who treats me like human being, enjoys my personality, and respects my opinions.  

But still...Obama...please fix the economy so I don't have to stand and serve greasy food to sitting people that I'd rather not see, let alone serve, under any circumstance.