Waitressing Woes

I've always kind of thought I'd make a good waitress.  I'm relatively friendly, I'm definitely talkative and I can take a lot of shit from a lot of people.  So when I got my first waitressing job about a month ago, I was pumped.  Though the hourly wage may suck, it's cold, hard cash right up front and mostly off the books.  You can't really beat that.  Even on a "bad" night, I'm still walking out having made between 12 and 15 dollars an hour.  And for a part-time job, that's pretty decent.

But that's not to say that I don't bust my ass for that cash.  Waitressing is stressful in and of itself.  You have to be on top of your shit all the time.  You have to make sure that you're attentive but not annoying and friendly but not clingy.  But all these things I expected.

What I did not expect was how much I'd have to bust my ass to get my co-workers to like me.

I grew up in a restaurant.  My mom was a single mom who worked as a full-time waitress to make cash.  Everyone always seemed to like my mom.  The cooks used to make special quesadillas for me, the bartenders would let me sit at the bar and color when the restaurant was empty and the other waitresses would braid my hair and tell me how adorable I was.  They all seemed like a family.  Sure they had their disagreements but overall, they got along.

My waitressing experience has been a bit different.  Some of the waitresses are your typical friendly and bubbly girls who are willing to help you out and don't mind when you ask questions.  However, others are the kind that take your food to your tables for you in a gesture that may appear nice but actually is a way of showing you that you're not on top of your shit.  Then there's the bartenders.  Some of them are friendly and some of them make me wish that prohibition had stuck.  You can't yell across the bar to get their attention... that's incredibly rude and I get that.  But standing awkwardly at the counter waiting to catch their eye isn't exactly the most efficient way to accomplish what I've come to do.  Nonetheless, that's exactly what I do.  Then there are the cooks.  And I can't quite figure them out. Sometimes, I think they like me.  Other times I think they think I'm the dumbest piece of shit that has walked through the front doors.  I realize that I could write "WW" for wheat bread instead of writing out "wheat" but I couldn't remember if the abbreviation was "WW" or "WB" and I've got seven tables that are all waiting for their food and therefore I was in a rush and if I write the wrong one, I get torn a new one.  So I just wrote out the fucking word.  But I still get a talking to.  Sometimes, it's done nicely.

"Hey, Case, next time just write WW, it's way easier."

Sometimes it's not.

"You gotta write that shit down right.  It's fucking annoying as shit."

I'm sensitive.  Perhaps a bit too much.  And I've never in my life had a job where I wasn't well received.  So I'm struggling.  But at the same time, I think it's good for me.  At some point down the road I'm going to have to work with people who are mean, so I suppose this is "training."