Thursday, May 27, 2004

A Shitty Day

I had a shitty day last Friday. I woke up early, went to my new doctor so he could help with my annoying running injury, and it turns out he’s an old friend from high school. “So, what are you doing with yourself?” That’s such a strange question from an ex peer who is now a doctor: a specialist no less. “Oh, I’m finishing up my B.A., waiting tables… you know,” when in reality, he obviously doesn’t know. He finished medical school ages ago, and now has a flourishing podiatry practice. How would he know what it is like to be a thirty-four year old waiter still screwing around with college and preparing to launch a 24k/year teaching career? I don’t know why that made me feel weird, but it did. I know that my life has been incredibly successful in ways that I never dreamt of. Every day, Ani and I look at one another in awe, point at Ruby and say, “We made that…” Each time we say it, we are more astonished.

I have the most successful marriage/relationship that I’ve ever seen! I have great friends, and I wouldn’t trade any of my youthful adventures for anything. I especially have no desire to go back in time, forgo all of my experience, and become a podiatrist. Foot medicine seems more like a torture in the fifth circle of hell than a career path to which I would like to aspire. I just don’t want to be a waiter anymore. I’d really like to be a teacher. Or a writer. Or a fly fishing guide. Or a winery representative. Or something other than a waiter. Did I mention that I don’t want to wait tables anymore?

It was actually pretty cool to see him, he was always a nice guy in school, and now he has two young daughters, so we had enough in common to keep any of my quirky awkwardness at bay. More importantly, he is a long time sufferer of plantar fasciitis, the tendon injury that has been frustrating me for this past year. I am confident that he will help me get it under control.

Next, I went and worked at the Stonehouse, which is always fun, but makes for a long time without seeing my daughter. I know it’s just one day a week, and I really enjoy it, but there is a little girl whose company I enjoy much more.

Then the nightmare began. I don’t want to end up one of those bloggers who loose their job as a result of their online rants, so I’ll be as vague as possible. Anyone who has ever worked in the service industry knows what a “waiter-dream” is. I’m sure that every occupation has its equivalent: the nightmare where the stressful part of a day’s work is magnified to the point of ridiculousness. My waiter-dream usually starts with me being a little late for work and in possession of a uniform that is horribly wrinkled, stained and somehow physically impossible to put on. The neck and the armholes are switched, or the buttons have been replaced with those Sacagawea Dollars, and they won’t fit through the little buttonholes, and I’m contorted in some strange position in the bathroom with my boss pounding on the door telling me to hurry up because I have eight tables seated in my station. Then all hell breaks loose, and I’m treading water and unable to talk and people keep sitting in my station, and I can’t get to them, and they are screaming at me. That’s the dream right?

Every waiter also knows that this nightmare is rooted in reality. College students never show up to class naked like in the typical student nightmare, but waiters do have nights like these. Friday night was a prime example. People were everywhere, in need of food that for one reason or another was not coming out of the kitchen. To make matters worse, a good friend came to see me on this night. I had bugged him a couple of times to bring his wife in, and he did… of course he did it on the nightmare Friday night where nothing could go right. They brought two friends with them. One of these guests left the restaurant in a huff because her food was taking too long. Imagine my seeing that happen when ten other tables were demanding something from me. My friend told me not to worry, and that there were other factors involved, but I couldn’t help feeling like a shithead. Trying to make things right, I went to my manager and asked if I could buy a bottle of the wine they were drinking, in order to give it to them with my apologies. My manager, trying to be helpful, said that he had a nice bottle of zinfandel that was just taking up space, and I could give it to them without having to spend my own money. It was a very nice gesture, and I went up to the table and told my friends that I had something special for them to thank them for their patience. I took for granted that the wine, which I had never tasted, was great. I lied and said that I loved this wine, and wanted them to try it. I could see it in their eyes when they had their first sip. I tasted it when they thanked me and offered me a glass. The zinfandel was awful, and I’m pretty sure that they felt obligated to drink it rather than order another bottle of wine that they would have enjoyed. I was so busy that I couldn’t even acknowledge this new awkwardness and just smiled and walked away. AAAGGGH.

He thanked me for the * ahem * nice bottle of wine, and tipped me exceedingly well, saying not to worry, he remembered how those nights were, that he’d been through it back when he’d been a waiter/bartender, which made me feel even more like a shithead. He’s a director at the ski resort near my work, and his wife is a receptionist at our OBGYN, so I’m sure I’ll run into them and feel awkward about this evening for months to come.

I went home, had a couple of beers, and let the day slide into the past. It still bugged me as the week marched on, but less and less everyday. I almost forgot about it until just now, when I realized, tomorrow is Friday, and I’m a little nervous about it. Are Fridays jinxed? I’d like to have a good day. I’d like to hang out and play with that beautiful baby and her beautiful mother rather than work two jobs.

This brings me back to my earlier realization; I don’t want to wait tables any more. Will anyone out there pay me to be a dad? Ah well. Monday is my day off, and it’s just around the corner.