In 2019 I wrote a book called, How to Act in a Restaurant: An Interactive Guide to Prevent Douchery while Dining. It’s illustrated by my incredibly talented friend, Emilie Campbell, who drew all of the accompanying puzzles and games that come with each tip. The idea being, if you can’t abide by the guidelines, busy yourself with the activities. I planned to provide a small box of crayons with each issue. Then I moved across the country and then there was a pandemic and now it is 2024.
I have on hold a second Substack with the same name as my book but no direction on where to go with it. Is it fiction? Tips? Stories? It threatens to be redundant. Dads always tell the same jokes, people are proud to join the “clean plate club”, okay can you start from the beginning, a favorite post menu-spiel jab. Diners stay way past close. Guests ask if there’s a bathroom in here. People sip wine like I’ve opened the bottle they ordered for a taste and not a determination of its being corked or not.
I’ve always thought about writing a TV show based on my fifteen year tenure as a server. The little things that happen in a restaurant, the relationships between staff, dynamics of front and back of house, owners, bartenders, tips and a TON of booze. Apart from cooks and chefs and sometimes bartenders too, most front of house staff choose a restaurant job for flexibility while they pursue other passions. Most find themselves still there many, MANY years after they’d expected to move on, chained by the “golden handcuffs”, a bendable schedule and the promise of immediate, hopefully good money.
As I continue to curdle, working a position that has far surpassed it’s expiration date, I ponder a familiar thought, literally what the fuck am I going to do next? I’m sick of walking in circles answering the same questions every night. The allure of little responsibility and not working many hours a week has worn off and I’m bored. And yet, I love restaurants. I’ll never escape them. Even if I didn’t work at one, I’d still probably spend the same amount of time there. I’ve had a whiney week about it.
Two nights ago I stood staring at a table of two guys who “obliviously” continued their conversation LONG after we had closed. Hospitality demands I let them naturally come to the conclusion that it’s time for them to leave but that generosity only extends so far. At a certain point, it’s simply rude. The lights had come on, the music had changed to blaring heavy metal, I’d flip flopped my way past their table multiple times having put my clogs and apron away in my locker an hour earlier. And still, they sat. I’ll never understand the lack of consideration. It can only come from never having worked in a restaurant, never experiencing just wanting to go home after seven hours of forced smiling and babysitting adults.
Serving has taught me a number of my most valued lessons. Number one, you never know what someone else is going through. When I have an ornery guest, I try and assume, no matter how abusive they’ve been, that they’re navigating something truly terrible. Vice versa, there’ve been plenty of smiles I’ve plastered on while facing some my life’s greatest trials. I’ve also been a complete bitch to strangers who simply wanted to order food. Customer service is exhausting and rewarding. Restaurants can be some of the coolest places in the world.
Remarkably, my job as a server is the axis around which my life swirls. My hopes and my dreams, my ebbs and flows, I’ve been able to pay my bills because I can work my shifts. When I went back to edit How to Act in a Restaurant a couple years back, I was embarrassed at how intent I was on shaming people. I mentioned I’m curdling now, when I wrote it, I was rotten.
Since then, I’ve surrendered. Because I no longer feel ashamed to be a server, I don’t feel the need to shame anyone for simply not knowing. Do I think everyone should work in a restaurant at some point in their lives? Absolutely. Nothing teaches you humility and compassion and generosity better than catering to the needs of hundreds of people every week. But I’d like to revisit my book from a more grown up perspective. Feeling that it’s okay to still be doing what I’m doing. That while I may be bored, I am employed. That deep down I know I won’t be a server forever.
Literally what the fuck am I going to do next? I don’t know. Until I find the key to these golden handcuffs, I’ll be circling a restaurant. The rest of my time will remain filled trying to find an answer by posting here weekly and hopefully bringing you, FINALLY, a printed copy of How to Act in a Restaurant…and some crayons. Until then…
READING
Almost finished with Great Circle. I’m obsessed.
WATCHING
Mr and Mrs Smith. Alan and I dragged the comforter from the bed to the sofa on Tuesday and watched the movie while it poured down rain outside. Highly recommend. That led us to start the show which we are really loving so far.
LISTENING
This episode of Normal Gossip about a 50 year Bunco club. Scandalous.
My kefir grains are dead and I wasted half a gallon of milk figuring that out BUT I did bake three loaves of bread and make some sauerkraut. Overall, a very needed excellent week.
My supplementary content schedule has gotten skewed so look forward to the video that was intended for last Friday, this coming instead. I’m testing a dessert recipe for the next DeeJay’s, hint hint, peaches are in season.
I hope you are happy and not too hot. It’s 91° here today and I’m wrapping up this post with pink cheeks and a sweaty neck having just walked to the wine store and back. I’ll talk to you soon everyone. Take very good care of everything you possibly can.
xoxo.
Crayons provide helpful therapy...