Welcome to Reality

One of my first jobs, about ten years ago resulted in an icy plunge into reality. Growing up in a small, sheltered, almost Stepford community, my world involved only school, sports and friends. Showing up that first day, work permit in hand, I never thought I would uncover the dirty secrets around me

The Cast

Jose ~ cook, early 20’s
Nick ~ cook, 17
Maria ~ supervisor, early 20’s
Sarah ~ supervisor/waitress, 17
Collin ~ waiter, 17
Myself ~ waitress, 15

Disclaimer: names have been changed to protect the guilty

I never knew what to look for, so they were able to hide the underground mechanics of the restaurant for some time. It didn’t take very long for them to become comfortable around me and relax their secrecy.

It was during a lull in our shift one humid summer day and I was walking back to the loading dock, which was always left open, for some fresh air. Coming around the corner I spotted Collin sitting on a milk crate with a strange contraption in his hand.

“Hey…what’s that?” I asked, honestly confused. I’d never seen anything like that.

“Want a hit?”

A hit? Huh? No I don’t want you to hit me. He extended the device toward me, which I could now see was made of glass. I declined, entirely confused.

“It’s a bong,” he responded to my look. Still, nothing. “You know, to smoke weed?”

That registered. Weed?! Drugs?! I was flabbergasted. I didn’t even think drugs existed in my sheltered community. As it turned out, though, they were even more abundant than I could have guessed.

It didn’t take long until I was walking into the bathroom at random and I would find Maria in there with her husband, Jose smoking a joint. It made sense to me now, when the office door was locked and I’d see Sarah hunched over the desk through the window, white powder neatly piled in lines.

But I was 15 and impressionable and didn’t say anything to anyone. It was just normal when I was alone on the floor with only Nick behind the line to cook.

Eventually, I was doing everything from cleaning and serving to managerial duties and I was sick of it. Blowing up hundreds of balloons in preparation for our first family night, by myself as usual, I went out back to ask for help. Everyone was locked, huddled in the tiny two-person office and I snapped. Without a word I walked out and never looked back.

A Word About the Wise

I had originally intended on discussing my issues with the elderly after covering children. However, my grandfather unexpectedly passed away a couple of days ago. Therefore, I instead would like to divert from my negative diatribe and pay respect to his memory by discussing the positive aspects of our elderly guests.

What’s great about them is that they tend to come out to eat earlier than the regular dinner guests. This enables us to serve them and turn the table with plenty of time for the dinner rush, thus ensuring more money in our pockets.

Additionally, older people usually know what they want, or in many cases, can eat and take little time to order. Even despite all the modifications they have to make to their order, time spent at the table is typically reduced.

After the meal, few of them linger, eager to be in the comfort of their home again so the table is easily turnable.

Perhaps the best thing about them is that many (although certainly not all) of them are patient and understanding. They tend to treat servers as their grandchildren, eager for conversations regarding the server. They show genuine interest in our schooling, family and goals for the future. They’re usually easy to talk to and respond accordingly to smiles and politeness.

Although they may not tip as well due to their monetary restrictions brought on by retirement, they’re generally very nice and the most likely to sing your praises to management, or anyone who will listen for that matter.

All they really want is a good meal and friendly service which is really not all too hard to give, and it’s satisfying to know that this little bit you give can make their otherwise monotonous evenings enjoyable.

RIP SMA