Famously, on her second to last shift before retiring as a server and moving to an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean (can’t make this shit up), my friend and former coworker, Sita, received a $1000 tip. It was jaw dropping and inspiring. Truly the stuff of legends.
I’d made Sita, literally whispered to her as we gave her a final cheers, “tell me I’m next.” She laughed and obliged, “You’re next.” Solidifying that I would be the next server to fly to coop. And then I was. Imagine my shock and surprise as I closed out my last check ever…
Where was my $1000 tip?
Doesn’t 15 years warrant some kind of prize? Some special recognition? A certain fated spoiling??
Valentine’s Day is an absolutely awful day to be a server. Every table is a 2 top. Usually the restaurant fills with amateurs who are nervous about dates or annoyed to be out on a holiday. Everyone is weird and usually there are so many reservations that there’s an enormous pressure to get people in and out as fast as possible. God forbid they hit it off or fall more deeply in love over a glass of Cab and desire a lengthy romantic dinner.

In 2016, I was living in Los Angeles and working at the coolest, best bistro in town, Marvin. Valentine’s Day was horrendous because the restaurant is already tiny and our owner, Max, was always down to cram in as many bodies as possible. In the middle of Marvin ran a 12 seat community table where no one wanted to sit and share a date with strangers right next to them. On this particular shift, I had the community table.
As expected, it was a fucking nightmare. That was until I started a couple who I immediately just liked. They were nice, very cool, super laid back and completely in on the joke of how stupid it is to go out to dinner on a made up holiday. Michelle and Brett, I know their names because they are now my friends. We don’t keep in touch like we used to but they made it a tradition to come back every Valentine’s after the first. They even flew back to LA from a trip to London a day early to make it in for my very last shift at Marvin, February 14, 2020.
What made my first Valentine’s Day with Michelle and Brett so incredibly special is that, at the end of the meal, Brett put his hand on my arm and with tears in his eyes told me that his father had died three days earlier. He went on to say that the fun they’d had with me that evening had lightened his heart, made him feel so much better and that he was so grateful for the experience. We all hugged and choked back tears. I was incredibly moved. They had made what was normally such a stupid night feel so important. It was a beautiful exchange. One I think about often and would especially remind myself of in the middle of a particularly bad service.
Providing exceptional, genuine, honest hospitality, when received and appreciated by a guest, is one of the most rewarding gifts that comes from being a server. I get choked up thinking about it. That I get to be a part of a couple’s favorite memories forever, indescribably amazing.
The relationships I’ve built with regulars over the years are unique. They’re people who just get it. “We know you’re busy, take your time,” or “Wow, they seem fun,” when it’s obvious I’m dealing with assholes. Usually, the friendship exists only within the restaurant, sometimes it extends to social media hellos, but always they are heartwarming lighthouses. Ports in the storm during a crazy night of demanding guests.
I retired from serving a little less than a month ago. I’ve already run into a couple of regulars, at a wedding a few weeks back. Bizarre to try and place how we know each other out in the real world and incredibly satisfying to tell people that I’m free. I no longer serve. I’m a real grown up now.
My friend, Jacin, threw a dinner party this weekend. She is one of those people, a sun around which so many cool, interesting and amazing people orbit and so I was already excited about who I would get to meet. Alan took off work on a Saturday night to join me which made the whole thing even more epic.
After a few minutes of mingling, a couple walked in and immediately I locked eyes with the woman, Sarah. She’s stunning but also, howwwwww doooo I knowwww you?? We did the circle and sniff for a few seconds until she screamed, “YOU’RE OUR FAVORITE SERVER!!!!” Cue hysterical laughter.
I, of course, updated them on my retirement status, told them what I’m doing now and marveled at how small the world is. Sarah grabbed my arm and told me she’d been dying to see me at the restaurant. Desperately she’d been wanting to share something.
About a month earlier, Sarah and her husband, John, had come to the restaurant with a party of 6 to celebrate the 65th wedding anniversary of his parents. In the three years I worked there, I never had many regulars at this place. So the ones I did have, I was able to remember well. She’s gluten free and likes the gin cocktail. I had a special veggie plate sent out for the table and reminded her of the drink she likes. It makes it easy to add special touches for guests I really care about.
The dinner was lovely. They had such a nice time. I had such a nice time. To wrap up their evening, I brought over a complimentary champagne toast to congratulate the couple on 65 years together. It was totally awesome and very gratifying.
After recounting the memory and sharing in how nice it was, she told me that, two weeks after that night, John’s father had passed away unexpectedly. I couldn’t believe it. He’d been drinking iced tea and snuck in a few sips of champagne just a month before. How incredibly sad. She wanted me to know this because it has made that dinner so incredibly important to their family. They’ve been recounting the details of that night over and over, reveling in the happy memory, laughing at what a good time they had. She thanked me for making the whole experience so memorable and wonderful.
Immediate goosebumps. Tears held back. I am so touched to have been a part of something so meaningful.
Sarah told me it was fate that we ended up at Jacin’s dinner party together. I told her she’d just given me my thousand dollar tip. It was exactly what I didn’t even know I needed to button up my fifteen years of clog wearing, order taking, sometimes miserable but also so incredibly beautiful serving career.
There is nothing quite like a shared experience, especially when it involves a meal. Something so powerful as a common memory based in gratitude. I feel so lucky to be a part of a few and I feel so blessed to know what it feels like to give a stranger (or a regular) a night they’ll never forget.
I’ll always love restaurants.
WEARING
Everyone, my “Yoda” glasses costume resulted in me looking like the drunk aunt of Halloween…
WATCHING
Okay, sorry to harp on this but I’m now fully into a rewatch of Felicity and I gotta say, the cast is so f’ing good. Everyone is SO GOOD in it!!!
LISTENING
And on that note, let me say again, the Dear Felicity podcast, if you’re a Felicityhead like me, total chef’s kiss. So good even though I often disagree with the host.
Next week, I will think of other things I’ve consumed besides Felicity…probably…I’ll try…
Tis November! Tis dark at 5pm now! Tis still 85 fucking degrees.
I’ve had enough. Nothing interferes with my wellbeing more than unseasonable warmth. Tomorrow is Election Day. We have only two months left in this year. Everyone I know is in the middle of massive transition.
I’m gonna do my best and I hope you are too, to be kind and take the best care of myself and the people around me as I can. I’m sending you so much love and gratitude and I will talk to you next week.
"She is one of those people, a sun around which so many cool, interesting and amazing people orbit and so I was already excited about who I would get to meet." - I also have one of these friends and I sent her this line today saying it made me think instantly of her when I read your post.
She replied that it's one of the nicest things anyone's ever shared with her - so thank you for your words and letting me use them to brighten another's day! 🌟
This gave me goosebumps when you told the FeltFam about it, and it has now brought Monday morning tears to the old man's eyes. This is worth more than a thousand $1,000 tips. Very proud of you, Boo. You bring your shining personality and warmth to everything you do. I Love you...