If you've ever seen the movie Waiting, you probably think it's a fairly accurate but very exaggerated portrayal of what it's like to work in a restaurant. Allow me to clear this up for you. This movie portrays exactly what it's like to work in a restaurant. This may be frightening, but it's true. Working in any facet of the customer service industry is a worthwhile experience, but none more so than in a restaurant; it is humbling, degrading, infuriating, and highly motivating, as it will make you hate your life so much that a fire will magically appear beneath your ass and propel you into the world of ambition.
At least that's what I took away from being a server for a year and a half. I worked at an establishment called Mimi's Cafe which served breakfast, lunch and dinner by the Mall of Georgia. The time I spent there was absolutely invaluable- in the most debaucherous way possible. The thing is, working in this type of environment really does force you to take a close look at your life and most likely reevaluate everything you're doing, but before this moment of epiphany occurs, it's extremely easy to get sucked into the restaurant lifestyle. And, at least for a while, it's pretty freakin' awesome.
It doesn't take long to realize there are certain facts that are true of every restaurant in which the main entrées cost less than $20. For instance, you can be sure that 75% of the employees smoke cigarettes. You can be sure that at least a handful of the employees have drugs in their vehicles, and, without fail, at least one employee has drugs on their person. Also, you can be certain that someone will ask you for a ride home, whether you've worked there for six months or one day. You can be sure that one of the managers is having an affair with one of the servers, that the female bartender has a tattoo, and that there is a bar less than a mile down the street at which 80% of your co-workers will get shit-faced after every shift. Oh, and just like in Waiting, every restaurant has a game.
When I started working at Mimi's it was a new restaurant, and a game had not yet been established. I suggested F.M.K., or Fuck, Marry, Kill. So, for instance, I would say "Brad Pitt, Paul Walker, and Prince Harry" and the other person would have to assign one of these men to each category. It first it was just something to pass the time, but things escalated quickly. The game was spreading like wildfire, and the best part was creating F.M.K.'s that featured fellow co-workers in the worst possible combinations we could think of. It was just the servers at first, but then the bartenders wanted in, and before long, the assistant managers were in on the action, too.
Once, the general manager held a meeting in which my little game was explicitly discussed. It had become controversial since we were including the names of other employees and some people had grown a bit upset, being objectified and all. But, after much deliberation, the GM ruled that the game was great for employee morale and that it was more beneficial than harmful. That's right- a game where you demean the integrity of every single person with whom you work- was decidedly a great thing.
Fun as it is spending all your time with people who don't give a fuck, it does eventually grow tiresome. You can only walk around in a cloud of pot smoke for so long before going into a coughing fit and hocking a loogie into a customer's corn chowder, and believe me, this really puts things in perspective. On the bright side, you won't leave the restaurant business empty-handed; you will leave with determination, a sense of purpose, meaningful, lifelong connections with nefarious characters, and a shit-ton of one-dollar bills.
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