Jesuit Living to Jadedness

Most everyone knows I've been waitressing in Nashville for just over six months now at a restaurant right by Vanderbilt and the Vandy hospitals.  It was a completely fortuitous occurrence that I got a job there--on St. Patrick's Day, my 4:00PM class was canceled, so a bunch of us decided to go celebrate and get some Guinnesses and we went to Sportsman's, which was right by school and had Guinness on tap.  I loved the atmosphere of the place and there was a hiring sign out front, so I filled out an application and got hired that weekend and started the next week and the rest is history!

Although I had a lot of experience in food service, I had never served, so it was a steep learning curve.  Sportsman's was a good place to start because we're such a low-key restaurant and are not usually super busy, so it was a good place to learn; but since it's not corporate, the training was not defined, and it was just kind of learn-as-you-go.  Six months later, I'd say I'm pretty good, and I still love working there (well, most days...but that's every job) and I know the regulars that I serve, and I just go through auto-pilot now and don't have to think twice about what I'm doing.

Tonight's shift made me stop and think though.  Fridays start getting really busy at 4, which is when I came in and then I stayed until close, which was 10:15 tonight.  We've been pretty slow the last few weeks with a few minor exceptions where we'll be busy for an hour or two-- tonight was just nonstop though.  I didn't sit down until about 9:00 and I didn't snack on anything but a granola bar until 9:30 and was practically delirious from how exhausted I was.  That's how servers make money though, and the work definitely paid off tonight.

But this got me thinking about all of my shifts the last few months.  Part of what I like about serving is having that complete relationship with your customers: you greet them, you bring them their drinks, you take their order, you check on them, you take their money, and you wish them a nice rest of their day.  You are the face of their experience for that hour or so.  In my first couple months, I worked only a couple shifts a week because finals were approaching as well as the marathon, and then I was spending a lot of time with George.  Once summer hit though and George was gone, I was working usually 25-30 hours a week just there, and even with school back in session I'm still usually closing Friday-Monday nights, and this has led me to become rather jaded and just kind of annoyed at everyone.  When we're slow, I get in a slow-mood and don't want to do anything, so when people come in, I get annoyed.  And then when we're busy like we were tonight, I get so stressed that every person at every table needs something different every two minutes and it's so hard to keep track of and I want to punch them all in the face.  I've started pre-stereotyping people when they come in, and will pay less attention to tables that I project aren't going to tip me. 

All servers pre-stereotype--it comes with the territory.  But it hit me tonight how annoyed I was getting at everyone.  I had several big groups going at one time--one was pretty awful, but the others were friendly enough.  But some of them kept trying to talk to me-- like chit chat, but I was so busy that I didn't have the time to do so, and I was getting so annoyed that they couldn't recognize that I didn't have time to talk to them.  But then when I closed out several more tables and had a moment to breathe, I was still getting annoyed at all this.  I remember telling two of my coworkers, "why does everyone want to tell me their life stories?! I DON'T CARE!!!!"

And then I realized that I've gone from valuing my server-customer relationship to solely seeing my tables as a tip I'll get once they leave, and I felt really sad about that.  My last table of the night was a rather awkward couple not much older than me, and they kept moving and were super shy and took forever to order, but like a good server, I was completely accommodating and nice and friendly, and they were really gracious and wrote "Thank You" on their receipt when they closed out.  Something so small really meant the world to me!  It sounds silly, but that made me realize that maybe just giving them a friendly smile and being nice could've made their night (just as them making an effort to write an affirmation on their check made my night!).  An older couple I had right before them were the most chatty folks I've probably ever waited on.  When it died down I actually sat down and talked to them for a bit just about lots of things--they were very interested in what I was doing in my life (grad school, future plans, etc.) and they were very pleasant, and then left me a huge tip.  And like that example--some people are genuinely interested and I want to get back in the spirit of being interested in people back.

My restaurant is right next to the big Vanderbilt hospitals so we get a lotttttt of people who have loved ones in the hospitals.  And they usually want to talk all about everything.  And it's such a regular occurrence now that I get sick of hearing about it, but then I remembered tonight all the Jesuit ideals I learned back at BC.  We harped so often on the importance of just listening to people.  What so many people so often need is just an ear from someone so they can rant.  And when your child or your parent or your spouse is in a major surgery or attached to life support, there's a lot you want to talk about.  I've become so jaded though that I don't want to listen to these people anymore, and am just ready for them to eat and go, and it makes me sad that I feel like that after working here for six months. 

There's not really a solution or revelation for this post-- but it was something I wanted to write about.  I want to be better about this from now on, and remember that everyone who comes in has their own story and their own problems they're dealing with.  Some people are just assholes and get pleasure out of being mean to servers--that's a fact.  But I'd like to believe that for a majority of people who come in that don't tip well or aren't friendly, or are super needy and high-maintenance, they all have a million things going on and having someone meet their needs for one meal is a blessing, and even having someone to listen to them rant about some of those problems.  Would I go in a restaurant and tell my server all about what's going on in my life or try to chit chat with them about things they don't care about? No.  But everyone's not me, and everyone's different, and everyone has value and deserves to be served with a friendly smile and with an ear to listen and with a chance.

Wow, this is getting kind of deep.  But for anyone reading this-- remember it goes both ways!! Some servers are just mean and grumpy and hate everyone, but for the most part, if your server isn't super friendly to you, he or she probably has a million other things he or she is worrying about, so you gotta cut some slack as well!

Again, no big point to this post-- it was more of a reflection for myself, because I was thinking about this all during my shift tonight and I want to get back to that relationship idea of serving, rather than seeing every table as a tip.

This too shall pass

I've been thinking a lot lately about time and about waiting.  I guess this all started when George left and was only magnified after I fractured my foot.  The "accident" happened almost three weeks ago and I remember when I found out that I'd have to walk around in a massive walking boot for anywhere from four to twelve weeks, I was devastated.  I called up my mom crying; I called up George sobbing ever harder; and they both basically told me that this would pass, that the time would fly.  Well sure enough, I've already been in the boot for over two weeks and the doctor told me on Tuesday that I probably will only have to wear it another two weeks, which was fantastic news. 

Not being able to run has been the hardest part of all of this.  It's already been over three weeks since I've run, and I think the longest I've gone without running in probably four years is maybe two weeks, and those hiatuses were always my choice--maybe it was because I was traveling, was sick, or some other circumstance.  This time around, it's not my choice.  And it's taken this break to realize why I've always considered myself less stressed than my peers.  Most people say they run to relieve stress and blow off steam, but I began running to prove to myself that I could do it (to ultimately work up to a marathon, of which I've now run two!) and I guess, simultaneously and unnoticed by myself, this act always kept my stress levels down and kept my wandering mind at ease because when I'm running, I don't think about anything else.  I've lacked those breaks from my usual and zealous overthinking these last three weeks, and I, as well as those with whom I interact on a daily or weekly basis, have definitely noticed. 

Lately I've just been sad and lethargic and apathetic.  I'm still working out every day and am working nonstop, but it's just so weird that by taking away running, my whole mood and outlook about everything changes.  I guess I've never really appreciated running, and especially during training, it's just one more thing that has to be checked off on my diurnal list of things to do, but after this forced hiatus, I will definitely be more appreciative of the calming powers the exercise has on me, because the elliptical and lifting are just not cutting it. 

So, as the saying goes, this too shall pass.  Sometimes things happen and you get put in situations where the only direction is forward.  This is terrible analogy, but I always think of the two times I've been bungee jumping, but most specifically when I went in Switzerland--134 meters high--and I was completely terrified and didn't think I could do it.  But standing up in this little gondola suspended over an Alpine lake, I realized that I didn't have a choice of which direction I could go.  I had to jump and whatever happened, happened.

Okay actually, here's a better analogy.  When I moved to Germany in September 2012, I absolutely did not want to go.  I had just completed one of the happiest summers of my life spent in Boston with my best friends, after completing an absolutely amazing four years at Boston College.  I didn't want to move to Germany at all.  I remember sitting on the plane and once it took off, saying to myself, well I guess I can't turn back now.  I remember moving into my room in Münster and crawling up into a ball that first night and trying to visualize and comprehend ten months and I couldn't do it.  And I told myself that I would just make a life in Germany and have a wonderful time, and the ten months would go by, because it was my life.  Those ten months were a series of really high highs but really low lows as well, but that's life.  And that's where I stand now.  I'm sure a lot of you who are close to me can guess to what I'm actually referring during this tangent.  It's been one and a half months and under five months to go.  I see the time as moving neither fast nor slow--just kind of statically existing, as I get up every morning and go through my routine. 

I'd like to say that I've faced a lot of challenges and changes and adaptations in my life thus far, but this is the first challenge I've faced that isn't all about me, and that's actually the hardest part.  There is someone else who is facing a bigger challenge than I am, and I hope that these circumstances have helped me to grow and become more mature as I become less selfish and realize that I'm getting to a point in my life where it's not just about me anymore, and that I have to think about other people.  In our society today, I personally think being independent is a more lauded trait of people, but I would perhaps argue against that after all of this.  I've been independent my whole life (in the sense of always going after what I want and focusing on being the best I can be so that I can succeed in everything I do), but when it's just you, it's easier.  I think adding another person to challenges and changing your outlook so that it's not just focused on you anymore is what's truly challenging.

This is new for me.  It's really hard, but as my title says, this too shall pass.

(And I'm sure I'll automatically be in better spirits once I can start running again!)