nope. still can't do it.

In organizing stuff today, I came across my long green apron (similar to the one pictured) and the credit card book I used to keep myself organized when I worked full-time as a waitress. I unfolded it, pulled the book out, noted that there was still a receipt from my last shift, harvested the pens, paused for a moment and then rolled the entire package back up again and put it back where I found it, piled on top of my white collared shirts.

If you think gamers are picky, try restaurant patrons. Restaurant atmosphere is unparalleled. I always tried to make light of things. I can always tell when Erika's in my kitchen, the head chef/owner once said. The atmosphere is different. If you flirt with the sauté or salad/dessert guy, your order always comes out first. If you sell the cannolli he accidentally made before he has to throw it away, your order comes out first and with extra touches. There's a reason I never dated a restaurant person and as recently as four months ago said to a co-worker, "Oh, you know how those restaurant people are. Always with the drama." The restaurant person is now out of co-worker's life after lots of drama.

I wore that apron after I decided to quit my soul-sucking job at AAA to better concentrate on looking for employment. I learned how to open a bottle of wine while standing up, how to make the eye contact count, and how to tell who cared what my name was, what the specials were, or who just wanted me to take their order and go away. I wore it for a few more shifts after I started working at Decipher. Sure, I'll take a shift. I just bought a new car, and could use the cash.

The book always kept me organized. For tables of 4 or more, it was where I wrote down the orders. I stashed my cash in there along with credit card receipts, extra paper, and notes about that night's specials. Some girls had pictures in their books--boyfriends, babies, whatever. I never took it that far. Work stuff only.

I haven't used either the apron or the book in several years and am fairly confident that, even if in the future my current employer and I decide to part ways, I would be able find another salaried job. I don't know why I kept the blasted thing. It's faded from the wash-- at least every second shift that thing went into the laundry. There is no way to describe the way a restaurant kitchen smells, or the way you smell after a shift of running in or out of said kitchen.