After a three month break, I’m now employed – and after a two and a half year hiatus, I’m employed as a server once more.
Every time I’ve quit a job, I’ve done so with the words, “Never again…” running through my head. Never more so than quitting my second serving job.
By the time I was done with a four year stint as a server in Moscow, I was more than thrilled to switch things up for a full time nanny gig. No more being treated like a servant. No more rudeness. No more stupid managers, long hours, aching joints, shifts ending in tears, and co-workers intent on making sure I had a hangover the next day.
I wish I could say being a nanny actually helped me avoid all those things – it didn’t. No job is perfect. As much as I’d love to say that my days watching two year olds were blissful and full of sunshine and giggles, I’d be lying. Don’t get me wrong – working with children can be wonderful, and frequently was. But it was not so unlike waitressing when I actually think about it – good shifts were awesome… bad shifts were horrific. The yelling of drunken patrons was replaced with the screaming of toddlers. The long hours of serving one group of people became long hours of serving another group of much shorter, inarticulate people – who couldn’t even use the toilet. My joints still ached at night, and I ended more days in tears of frustration and exhaustion, drinking the “shift” away as a nanny, than I ever did as a server.
That being said, I never felt even a fraction as fulfilled or rewarded as a server as I did, often, as a nanny. I will certainly miss that.
I’m very fortunate to have landed the job I did, and even more fortunate that this restaurant is similar to the one I worked in Moscow….only better. The management actually seems to know what they’re doing, the restaurant has a perfect lay-out, they don’t overstaff, they hire security on busy days, and they stand behind their employees – not forcing the servers to suffer sexual harassment at the hands of certain clients just to maintain a successful relationship with big money. I know that in the following weeks and months I’ll see the breakdown of management/employee relation and get to know the faults of even this seemingly flawlessly run establishment – but for now I’m content…excited even. Something I never believed possible as I drove away from a serving life in Moscow, yelling “Good riddance!!” Apparently time does heal everything.
So bring on busy days, hectic nights, long hours, high tension in the server alley, breaking into a clique, free food, free drinks, inside jokes, bonding over a common hatred for rude customers and bad percentages, great tips, small kindnesses, and the like. I’m a server once more.
“Hello everyone, my name is Esther and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get y’all started with something to drink?”
Attic Confessional 