I Am Server, Hear Me Roar!

| March 31, 2010 | 11 Comments

I am an avid believer that everyone should work in the service industry for a few weeks out of their life. Screw community service in high school, require teenagers to work as a server, host, cook, whatever for a solid 2-3 weeks. I think then everyone will understand the crap that we have to deal with on a daily basis.

I have been in and out of the service industry since I graduated college and have, for the past three years, been managing an Annapolis restaurant, serving and bartending. I have to admit, I love it. I live downtown and walk to work, I never have to wear a suit or heels, and my stress rarely revolves around deadlines and office politics. Now my stress is about where I’m going after work and how I’m going to accessorize. There’s something to be said about simplicity.

So, I am approaching thirty and all of my friends are getting married or having babies. You would not believe the amount of parties and showers I have to go to in the next few months. So we all know Fridays and Saturdays for restaurants are typically money shifts, so it should come as no surprise that I work every Friday and Saturday night. I do my best to try and attend as many parties as I possibly can without going hungry or homeless. It’s the people that just don’t understand why it’s so difficult for me to call out of work to celebrate their friend’s, sister’s cousin’s third engagement party that bother me the most. This is my JOB, I don’t get paid vacation, hell, I don’t even get benefits. I don’t ask you to take off on a Wednesday to go get plastered at the bar with me, so don’t expect me to drop everything on a Saturday night for you. I like living by myself and spoiling my dog, and need a steady income to make that happen.

My mother, whom I love dearly, still pays for my car insurance. I know, I know, it’s pathetic.  I have tried on several occasions to assume responsibility and the last time I approached her about it, do you know what she said to me? “When you get a real job, you can start paying for your car insurance”. So then and there I decided I would milk it for as long as possible. My mother means well, and I guess since she paid for a large portion of my extremely expensive college education, she is allowed to say whatever she wants.

At the end of the day, I just want my family and friends to realize that I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it I’M IMPORTANT TOO!

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About the Author ()

I graduated with an Art degree from a small liberal arts college, did a bit of traveling and moved to Annapolis from Baltimore about seven years ago. I currently manage a well-known Annapolis restaurant, serve and bartend. I live downtown and I like sunsets and long walks on the beach :)