The Waitressing Years cont.

Hold on readers, we are about to embark on a whirlwind tour.  With my new found waitressing skills I went back to university and started looking for a part time job to help support my education/drinking fund.  First I worked at a little place in downtown Hamilton where I encountered extreme racism, a horrible chef/owner, and when I called for my schedule the girl who was supposed to be making the schedule told me that she had never heard of me and wasn't sure why I thought I worked there....  So I brought my then boyfriend, now husband, with me for moral support to pick up my pay cheque and never went back.

Next I worked for Yuk Yuks comedy club for two nights.  It was fun and funny and I thought I could really get into that job.  Except they also wouldn't give me a schedule, but instead of being honest about it they avoided my calls.  Finally, I left a message for my 'boss' and ended it with, "If I no longer have a job with you just let me know and I will stop calling."  He called back to insist that of course I still worked for him.  Then refused to pay me for the time I had worked.  Finally I also had to go down there to pick up my cheque which they tried to withhold. 

So ended my working career while in university.  But what followed was an unimaginable and hideous list of waitressing jobs that I can only give you in bullet form. 

*Tony Roma's in the Falls, by far the best waitressing experience of my life.  Lesson: always work for reputable chains not sketchy, dirty places where you fear for your life.

*Denny's - ignore my previous lesson.  New Lesson: Do not work for chain restaurants where you get yelled at for polishing the silverware and are told to just stand and do nothing instead.

*Biscotti's - a little place in Toronto.

* The Fiery Grill - a fun place on the water in Muskoka where I spent a few summers serving and swimming and tanning which no longer exists.

*__________ - another place in Toronto that will not be named because it does exist still and was mostly a front for drugs, but also a big supporter of the underage drinking community.  Once I asked two young girls for ID and got in trouble from my boss because they didn't have any.  Also we had to climb a small winding staircase to get to the upper portion of the restaurant and the owner used to stand underneath and grab our ankles and then fire you if you dropped your tray or spilled a drink.  Please note - I quit this job and was not fired because I have impeccable balance skills.  Although I did once shout, "You are not an alligator.  Don't touch me." because he was obviously pretending to be an alligator under there.  I did mention copious amounts of drugs were being dealt and used in this place, right? 

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Stay tuned, up next is a much anticipated chapter called, "Marching With Horses".  It is also the current working title of my life story - special thanks to my friends Jen and Carlie for their continuous support and laughter at the failure that is my life.

The Waitressing Years

I believe we all have a blog post with this title in our lives.  For some of you it might be the McDonald years, or the pole dancing years, or the I have an actual job as a real grown up and don't waste my time blogging years.  Whatever you fancy.  These are the years when you feel like you have really made it in life.  You set a goal and you achieved it, you make lots of money and have piles of cash lying around your bedroom to spend however you see fit (side note - I don't know if real grown ups keep piles of cash, but when I am a real grown up I will.  In fact, I plan on having a little cash bowl, much like a candy bowl, on my coffee table for people who are poor and need a few extra dollars so they can just grab some cash.  Also, I might have a candy bowl too, and a fancy hand sanitizer in between the two because I don't want your grubby little money fingers touching my jelly beans.). 

After my summer of barrel picture taking, I decided the next summer I would waitress and make fantastic tips and (hopefully) no longer be mistaken for a young boy.  I started out working for the Parks Commission in the Falls.  I am not going to name my current employers or give you too many details about that, but I feel it is rather safe to let you in on the long list of places I have previously worked.  The Parks are a huge organization in the Falls and hire the majority of students looking for waitressing jobs in the summer.  Because I had never waitressed before I wasn't allowed to waitress there, but I was given a hostessing position and was told the next summer maybe I could work up to waitressing.  Fine.  I took it.  I hated hostessing.  It was awful and terrible.  The servers hated me because I cleaned up their tables and re-sat them.  They preferred to take long smoke breaks and ignore the customers.  The restaurant was right near the brink of the Falls and dirty, sticky, stinky Niagara River water would soak me as I walked around with customers.  It would also soak their food, but not their appetite for over priced crappy food with a view that you could walk down and get for free!

The woman who trained me told me how much she loved this job because she put in her hours in the summer and then collected unemployment in Florida for the winter.  She wasn't in her mid to late 70's and so this didn't really make sense to me, but I pushed on.  For about a week.  Then I had an interview at the Keg.  They hired me and I quit my Parks job (being blacklisted forever from their empire) and moved on.  The Keg was more organized in their training, my supervisor had me fill out a written test which I'm pretty sure I failed because I hadn't memorized the postal code of the building and an alternative phone number for the restaurant.  You might think that is a joke, but I promise you that one is 100% true. 

I was still hostessing but I felt like it was a step up.  I wore a tie every day to work.  Actually, in hilarious news, I just realized that this is the most formal dress code I have ever had for a job!  O dear... 

Then one fateful day I was searching the internet for a new job.  Always searching.  I saw a resturant hiring servers with no experience who could start immediately.  I called and then went in that very afternoon to a place that no longer exists on the top of Clifton Hill.  It was not the Keg.  It was sketchy.  Nobody in their right mind would eat there.  It wasn't busy at all.  But it got me in to my dream job.  I quit the Keg.  I called in early in the morning before the July 1st long weekend, because I'm super responsible like that.  I told my new job I couldn't start until after the long weekend because I had to stay at the Keg.  Then I went to the cottage for the weekend. 

And that is the story of how I became a waitress.  This chapter is to be continued because it is a very very very long one.  Almost unimaginably long in the amount of places I have worked.  I hope you have started counting already because they are about to add up very very quickly.