Hot Coffee and Dirty Plates

There is one life experience that I believe everyone should have - waiting tables.

For me, this experience came along during my senior year of high school. I was in desperate need of a job, and my mom made it no secret that she was sick and tired of paying for all the gas that I put into my new-to-me 92' Buick. In an effort to get her off my back, I applied to a restaurant in town where I was almost certain to get the job. In fact, the manager was my cousin's girlfriend, and she practically hired me before I even turned in my application!

Before I knew it, I was going in for my first day of work. It was a Sunday, and I arrived at the restaurant about fifteen minutes before my shift was supposed to start. I wanted to make a good impression. My collared polo was crisp, clean, and as white as cheap detergent would allow. I was wearing new black slacks and a pair of shiny black shoes that my mom had bought on the sale shelf at Wal-mart. Make-up had been painstakingly applied, and my hair was pulled back as tidily as I could manage. I felt like a million bucks! Or at least I did for about five minutes.

That morning turned out to be a nightmare! I would solemnly swear that the entire church-going population of Fulton County walked into the restaurant within the three hours that I was on the clock. People were everywhere, and everyone wanted something from me. Drinks were constantly being filled and refilled. Mounds of dirty plates begged me to carry them to the dishwasher as I rushed past them with the pot of hot coffee. Countless times, I heard the dreaded words "check please," and knew that I had not even entered the order into the cash register. To say the least, I was overwhelmed! What had I gotten myself into? Would I be able to handle doing this job every weekend?

The simple answer to that question was "yes." There was no way that I was going to quit. I had to stick it out, and now that I look back on it, I am very grateful that I did. Working in that small town restaurant changed me in ways that I could hardly have expected on that first dreadful day. First of all, I learned to be more social and outgoing. I have developed the ability to talk to strangers* and to people of all ages and backgrounds. My time management skills are much better than they once were, and I now do a better job of juggling tasks.

Ultimately, that restaurant prepared me for the real world. I created bonds with the members of my community, met travelers and heard their stories, and even had to deal with being "cussed-out" at one point! Waiting tables is an experience that teaches a person how to deal with real life experiences and to think of others before himself/herself. It is a lot of work, but I promise that all who try it will be richly rewarded!

*I apologize for my word choice at this point. Talking to strangers is not always a good thing; however, some jobs require it.