Essay #2

                Behind the scenes, beyond those two swinging double doors is what really goes on in a waitress’s home away from home. Where I felt most comfortable in expressing my true feelings or venting out my frustrations, thoughts and errors. Passing through the doors with a big sigh of relief, finally, a break from my very unreal unwanted smile I portrayed to the people I absolutely despise, and being able to be myself for two seconds. Don’t get me wrong, I had my favorites and I loved most of my customers. In a small town like this you know exactly who is coming in before they even park their cars. You know who will be there in the morning to grab a quick bite before they head off to work, and the same ol’ folks that scarf their lunches while getting the new buzz that’s going around town or debating on some political dispute.

 My co-workers pretty much know my past, my present and my hopes for the future. In some cases I was forced to hear the same about them and some of their stories can be a little bit to revealing and awkward. Typically, as a waitress there’s usually at least one person you can call a “good friend”. Someone that I could trust with all of my secrets about who I thought was scum or the rich cutie that just left me a whopping 60 dollar tip with his number sketched on the back of the slip. We just clicked. If she scratched my back I would scratch hers, we appreciated it and made good money together.

On the down side, that good friend of mine didn’t work as much as I did. Which meant, when I picked up a shift that i normally wouldn’t, that’s when I got stuck with the “goofy girl”. She was always messing up orders and ticking off the kitchen crew. She was slow as a snail, I had no choice but to pick up the slack and clean up her messes. She wasn’t necessarily mean but not very nice either, and she sure thought she was a good waitress. Ha, little did she know. Usually before the night was over I had enough and exchanged a few words behind the scenes, involving a few swears. I still made some pretty good money because she would abandon her tables. I still don’t understand how she kept her position, when she did such a crappy job.

 Then no matter what, you always have that one certain guy that likes to think he’s the “cat’s meow”. He would always flirt with me, and somehow or other find a way to make my face beet red. Even if it meant raising his eye brows and smooching up his lips as the boss turns away for that split second.  I cannot find a reason in my head as to why I liked his compliments or what exactly attracted me to him. It could have easily became something more but I knew it would ruin the whole excitement of coming into work and desperately holding myself back from the fantasy of “mistakenly” locking ourselves in the stock room on that slow rainy day, and well, you can probably figure out what would happen next. But I couldn’t, I just couldn’t, and now I’ll never know.

Despite all of the crappy, ignorant and cheap customers, I still had the ones that I loved and they kept me going. But I wanted more, I hadn’t lived my life to the fullest and I couldn’t stop there! So I moved on and put in many hours of training to assist adults with developmental disabilities to become more independent by offering guidance and support for daily living activities, self-help, and social skills. I also took a C.R.M.A  (certified residential medication administrator) course and continued on in studying to be a Nursing Tech. I married a handsome man, had 3 kids and bought a house. It doesn’t stop there either, within the next few years I will become a Registered Nurse. Who knows if that’s where it will end but I do know that someday (I can see it now) I will be sitting in that little dinner waiting to see that old good friend of mine, knowing that all the ones that once thought they were better than me are sitting there with their ears tuned in, and the others that I loved anxiously waiting to hear the new buzz. Out of the corner of my eye that same ol’ flirty guy gives me a wink through the windows of the double doors and my good friend sits down beside me with two cups of coffee and asks “How the heck are you!?” and “Where the heck have you been!?”