Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Day sixty: man, am I tired.



Whoever thought it was a good idea to work two serving jobs (me) is wrong. It's not a good idea. It's the worst idea. Actually, the worst idea is sticking your tongue to a metal pole in the winter; serving at two restaurants is a close second.



This working thing is for suckers. It's not the first time I've had two jobs, in fact there was a time when I had three jobs and went to school. The thing about serving that makes it more tiring than other gigs is that you have to be nice to people all the time. Being nice can be draining. Having to grin and bear it when a table is rude or obnoxious can be tough for a person like me because, more often than not, I can't keep my mouth shut 90% of the time. I can't help myself. I blame it on being the youngest child. 


Sometimes a table won't even be rude to me but rather to each other which puts me in an awkward position. Today a mother called her daughter a "little piggy" in front of me because the girl ordered a salad before her meal. The poor gal just went red then looked down at the table. She must have been about 10 or 11 and on her way to developing a poor body image and eventually an eating disorder thanks to her own mother. 


I walked away a little stunned - too shocked to say anything and glad that my parents have never called me names let alone in front of a stranger. 



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