I’ve tried various approaches to this writer thing. Last
year, it was all about being a deadbeat mooch, pretending money wasn’t
important and focusing on my Art.
Then I tried being a World Traveler and Self-Sacrificing
Volunteer.
Soon, all the unimportant money had dribbled away. I had
deep doubts about the value of my volunteering. (Some people are born to make a
difference. Some people should really go back to work and just send money.) And
the Art—hah! Pah! And even, bah!
That’s when I remembered the whole
starving-artist-with-a-menial-job thing. It’s unpleasant, yes, but it has all
that romance and cachet and stuff.
Restaurant work seemed the most traditional choice. The
application process, however, was tricky. I waited tables
in college but in the subsequent
ten years, I had made an important self-discovery: I kind of hate people a
little. (See item re: volunteering, above.) I really, really, really don’t like
depending on being cheerful and friendly and helpful for my daily bread. True,
at the very highest levels, wait staff are expected to be cold and snooty, but
we really don’t have those kinds of restaurants here in Dog Patch, and I
wouldn’t be qualified for them if we did.
So, I put in a bunch of applications at various
establishments, listing my experience as a server, but gently encouraging them
to consider me for any position but.
Confusing for people.
Lately I’ve been trying to have a more honest and open approach to life, but my ‘I
hate people and do not wish to serve them’ explanation seemed ill-advised.
And then I heard about the Café.
They were hiring for the summer.
They didn’t require experience, preferring to train their
help themselves, rather than deal with people used to other restaurants’
systems.
They were looking for a kitchen helper who would be on the fast track to a supervisorial position.
It sounded too good to be true …
…
…
.
Funny how these things work out.
Watch this space for Part II of Phase I (shut up) in the
coming days!
Dum dum dummmmm.
