I thought I was done with it all. The ass-kissing. The bullshit presentation of food and drink. The sheer...nonsense.
But I did it. I got a waitressing job.
After Bistro d'OC I swore off waiting tables. Indeed, it was the French wot did it. But I had had this hankerin' lately for the thrills and spills of waiting tables.
Or maybe it is just the money. As many of you know, cold hard cash is my pimp.
So I started this weekend at Bistro Bis. It's a really nice place on Capitol Hill where the cocktails cost $10+ and what not. It's cool, though because I only work Saturday/Sunday breakfast and brunch. (The not cool part is that it starts at 6:15 am). Usually breakfast is the sucky-suck-suck shift, but not here: I think the guy I shadowed made $250 this weekend. We'll see how it goes.
I already felt a gag reflex when a customer asked for extra chives on his omelette.