She Must Be Having a Bad Day

Idea + Paper + Stapler

2011-08-03T18:33:00.000-05:00

Here's a story I did for my day job at METRO magazine on Twin Cities zine culture--a subject about which I'm pretty stoked. I'm really sad not to be participating in Twin Cities Zinefest this year, but I just don't have the time anymore. (Which reminds me: Microcosm, I still owe you another order of zines...). Lacey Prpic Hedtke is organizing this year's Zinefest (September 24 at Powderhorn Park) and I think it will be great.

Read it online for now, and I'll upload a PDF in a bit.

That's some of my embarrassingly extensive collection there. Dude, some of those zines are from high school! Hello, hoarder! SMBHBD is on the left, about halfway down the page.

Server dreams

2011-08-03T18:15:00.001-05:00

My first zine, No Rest for the Wicked, was about insomnia, a disorder with which I've struggled on and off since I was about 5 years old. In it I wrote about dreams that used to plague me in my early 20s, while I was a barista. I would dream that customers would be surrounding me on both sides of the coffee bar like zombies, that the cream pitcher wouldn't stop leaking or that the industrial-strength blender wouldn't stop whirring. I'd wake up feeling like I'd been at work all night, then would have to get up and do it all over again for real in the morning.

I used to have similar dreams when I started my first job as a bagger at a natural foods co-op--I'd try to fall asleep, but my brain wouldn't stop strategically placing groceries in bags--and when I was a kid and would play a lot of Tetris on our first-edition, black and white screen Gameboy (this one--ah, that makes me feel old!).

Keeping in mind that I've struggled with insomnia for years and have sought out doctors and alternative practitioners galore to try to figure it out, imagine my surprise when a co-worker told me about Hypnagogia.

This particular co-worker has also struggled with insomnia and we've compared notes once in a while on our respective sleep idiosyncrasies. I was telling him about some severe, disturbing hallucinations I had recently (par for the course in insomnialand, unfortunately) that were paired with paralysis, and he immediately said "Hypnagogia." It's a phenomenon mostly related to when you're falling into and out of sleep, which is when most of my sleep problems occur. Take a look under the Sensory Phenomena heading (and yes, I realize Wikipedia is not the place to diagnose yourself, and I do see all those "citation needed"s in the article) and what do you see? For one, the "Tetris Effect":

People who have spent a long time at some repetitive activity before sleep, in particular one that is new to them, may find that it dominates their imagery as they grow drowsy, a tendency dubbed the Tetris effect. This effect has even been observed in amnesiacs who otherwise have no memory of the original activity. When the activity involves moving objects, as in the video game Tetris, the corresponding hypnagogic images too tend to be perceived as moving. The Tetris effect is not confined to visual imagery, but can manifest in other modalities also.

For another, "server dreams":

This is very common amongst new waiters or waitresses in busy restaurants where they report having "Server Dreams" and restlessly wait tables in this state of mind, sometimes jolting them fully awake or preventing them from transitioning into actual sleep.

This definitely explains a lot. In fact, I've experienced nearly all the phenomena--sleep paralysis, strange vibrations, hallucinations, visions, apparitional experiences, insight, amnesia, phosphenes--of Hypnagogia. I've involuntarily written entire screenplays in my head while in a state of sleep paralysis before.

Luckily, I don't really have server dreams anymore (but Amy Poehler does!). Occasionally I'll have a work-related stress dream, but I'm very thankful to have a job that doesn't intensify my (apparently) already cray-cray sleep issues.

Submit your stories!

2011-04-07T23:21:00.001-05:00

Hi friends,

I'm back. Sort of. But I need your help!

Have you ever been a server, cook, barista or otherwise employed within in the food service industry? Just have some observations to share as a customer or server? I need submissions for the ol' blog. Send your materials to shemustbehavingabadday[at]
gmail[dot]com.

Microcosm is all sold out of SMBHBD zines right now, but I'll be restocking them this week. In the meantime you can pick them up from Atomic Books.

Zines now available at Atomic Books in Baltimore!

2011-02-21T19:31:00.000-06:00

Good news, zine-loving friends! She Must Be Having a Bad Day #1 and 2 are now both available at Atomic Books, a really cool store in Baltimore with a John Waters connection (ZOMG!) that, should I ever find myself down Maryland way, I am totally going to visit.

Buy the zines from Atomic here, or purchase some of the freshly printed copies that my old friends Microcosm are selling.

Hiatus

2010-11-16T19:34:00.001-06:00

Hello, blog-readin' friends,

I just want to give you all the heads up that the SMBHBD blog is going to be taking a brief hiatus. Between work, freelance jobs, some serious health issues (and no insurance, natch), plus the recent loss of a dear friend, I'm sort of treading water here (goddamn Saturn return!). I promise to be back at it soon after the new year. You can still feel free to contact me at shemustbehavingabadday [at] gmail [dot] com. I'm only an email away.

Dana

P.S. I'll leave you with this gem in the meantime.

From the back of the house

2010-10-31T21:08:00.002-05:00

By Bryan Riek, cook and zinester.

Why are cooks such assholes?

It can sure seem that way a lot of the time in a lot of restaurants. I have witnessed it and perpetuated it myself numerous times. To answer that question, we have to look at the types of people this work environment attracts: drunks, drug addicts, students doing homework instead of work, artists, child support-dodging trash,

single moms/dads struggling to get through the day for their kids, immigrants with language barriers, entitled family members, the undereducated, overly educated but surprisingly bad culinary school graduates - everyone and anyone who just cant take the regular 9-5 routine.

I wound up in a kitchen due to flexible schedules and later hours. I was a huge drinker and loved to shovel anything that came my way into my system. I did finally kick my bad habits mostly and realized I was not skilled to do anything else besides write and paint things no one reads, so, over ten years later, I'm still shoveling food onto plates. Hey, these things happen.

So back to the why. Well, looking from the list I must say #1 and 2 dominate, so the well can be a bit tainted, so to speak.

Add to that the fast-paced, sometimes non-stop, environment with long odd hours and a design that is set to pit front of the house with back by exchanging pressure back and forth from one another. Pressure to get the order in the kitchen, and then the cook has pressure to cook it up to standard in a timely fashion, then get it out the door while its still hot, a minute behind on either end could have a waitress staring down a cook for an order she wants, or a cook yelling for a waitress to take the food out before they have to remake it! That's just one of many traps a restaurant worker has to avoid in a night - not to mention how it's also all set up in a big brother-like fashion with everyone making sure everyone else is working up to par. It can bring out the worst in ya sometimes and its not hard to see why a front vs. back mentality is established.

As I stated, I have been guilty of this, but have tried to actively combat this infection of a work place. When this aggression rears its ugly head I try to turn to the person and ask, "Why and where does this come from?" Sometimes a base question can knock someone into seeing what they might not even perceive as negative in such an environment, just part of the job right? Well, no, it's certainly not. Let's not sink the boat we are all in.

As workers, we can try not to let what are essentially minute mistakes and problems that seem worse get worse due to being amplified by pressure. As customers maybe we can give that waitress/waiter a break next time your steak is a bit underdone for your tastes or that side of ranch that was forgotten. They might already be getting it from their co-workers.

After all, it's only food.....right?

Email Bryan at: thinkcreep [at] yahoo [dot] com

I've recently been chatting with Bryan about the whole front vs. back of the house mentality and how detrimental it can be. In the SMBHBD zines, I do my fair share of complaining about back-of-the-house coworkers (namely, creepo dishwashers and unstable line cooks), but I think it's important that it be known that there are some great cooks and dishwashers out there...and that servers can be, and often are, the crazy ones.

Amy Bezunartea turns serving into art with 'Restaurants and Bars'

2010-10-24T19:15:00.001-05:00

The lovely and talented Amy Bezunartea will be releasing her debut album Nov. 2 on Brooklyn-based Kiam Records (a label founded by the equally lovely and talented Jennifer O'Connor). "Music? I thought this was a blog about waitressing!" you might be saying. And you're right. But Amy's album, called Restaurants and Bars, is quite pertinent to the plight of the female food service worker. Amy spent years waiting tables (in fact, she still does), and she's managed to do what I've tried to with the zines and blogs, and what I hope all former service industry people eventually can: to turn her FFSW experiences - good and bad - into a source of creative inspiration.

Amy was kind enough to answer some questions about her service industry experience and her music for us. Make sure to support her by buying Restaurants and Bars - check out the player after the Q+A to stream the title track if you'd like a sneak peek (Kiam also has a couple free downloads from it on their blog).

SMBHBD: Tell us about your history working in food service. Which came first, the music or the desire to write about the subject matter?

Amy Bezunartea: I already played music when I started working in the service industry. I think writing about work just sort of happened naturally. Working in restaurants was all I did for so long and it was all my friends did and all we talked about- who worked where, how much money they made.... So it just sort of seeped into my songwriting.

Do you still work in the service industry now that your music is at the forefront?

I still work as a waitress. I have tried many times to get out of it, but restaurant work always saves me. I'm able to work less than I did when I was younger and supplement my income with other odd jobs and music, but 2 or 3 nights a week I am still running around waiting on people.

It seems like people who work in bars and restaurants many times are also writers, artists and musicians. Do you think there's something inherent that draws creative people to this industry?

I do. It's not a conventional world or way of life. It allows a lot of flexibility and freedoms that a regular job does not. There's also a lot of fast money to be made in restaurants, so people can move, travel, make records, take the winter off, buy fancy clothes, etc....

What sort of specific topics about the industry does Restaurants and Bars address?

Well, it's a rough job and you can really get stuck in that world. It's hard to break out of and into something else and you're not really working your way up any sort of ladder.You just get older and more beat up.

What positive effects do you think working in food service has on a creative person?
The nature and the pace of the work leads to all kinds of odd and hilarious situations. Waiting on people is so fascinating. It's a great opportunity to observe types of people and how they act. It's also a job that you can move from city to city and do. You can travel, do more of it, or less of it. It's a good tool in that way.

What is your worst experience from working in food service?
Worst? I currently work at a German beer hall in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and I've never really experienced anything like it before. I've worked I've worked there for almost a year and I've seen enough vomit to last me a lifetime! People vomiting into their beer mugs, on the table, on each other, people walking out on their checks, fighting, crying, falling asleep, making out. It sort of wipes out all my other waitress horror stories at the moment.

What will you do once the album is released on Nov. 2? Any plans for a tour?

I am doing a Fall mini-tour with Winston Troy. She's this great one-woman band with looped guitar tracks and effects. We're playing 5 East Coast shows. [See the dates here].

The Wheatgrass Preacher

2010-10-13T21:46:00.003-05:00

Today I went to a natural foods co-op juice bar (different from the one where I used to work). As I was picking out my iced tea in the store's beverage cooler, I heard the phrases "cleans you out" and "so good for you" coming from behind me, followed by some disinterested "yep"s and "uh-huh"s. I immediately knew what was going on. I closed my eyes, turned and looked. And sure enough - a wheatgrass preacher, with an unsuspecting victim in her grasp.

Wheatgrass preachers are a strange breed of customer. They usually appear out of nowhere one day, confidently sauntering up to the barista to ask for a shot of wheatgrass, REALLY LOUDLY, so everyone around them can hear. They often whistle or sing to themselves and act friendly - in a creepy, born-again, cult-y way. While the barista is completing the arduous task of preparing the wheatgrass shot (which is extremely tedious and labor intensive and looks like this), the wheatgrass preacher will take the opportunity to educate whoever happens to be in a 20-foot radius about what they perceive to be the many benefits of drinking wheatgrass juice. For example:

It's good for you.
No, it's really, really good for you.
It removes toxins from your body.
It helps heal your liver.
It's good for your skin.
It tastes a little weird, but it's worth it!
It "cures" cancer, emphysema, dengue fever, a cold - or whatever ails you.

After a wheatgrass preacher has announced to an uncaring audience his or her intentions of drinking a wheatgrass shot, they will get all worked up when they see the first drop of juice come out of the juicer. "Oh, here it comes!" "It's gonna be so good!" they yell. They hover around the machine, like a cat waiting for you to finish opening a can of tuna. They'll then either slam it back like it's a shot of Jag, or they'll savor it and slosh it around in the little Dixie cup like brandy in a snifter. If you've ever been around one of these WPs, you're probably wondering what all the fuss is about and you might be curious to try this miracle juice the next time you're at the juice bar.But before you drink, heed the advice of someone who's served (and drank) her fair share of green nectar. Here's what the wheatgrass preacher won't tell you:

"Cleans your system out" is code for "make you poop."
It's going to "clean you out" almost immediately and maybe make you throw up - quite possibly at the same time. (I'd probably rather just have a bad cold for two days than poop and throw up at the same time.)
The faster you slam it, the faster you're probably going to have explosive diarrhea. So slow down there, cowboy!
It smells and tastes like if you laid face-down in your yard immediately after mowing it. A squeeze of lemon juice makes all the difference, though.
Your teeth, lips and tongue will be all green after you drink it, and it looks really creepy. Don't smile at your barista.
It is good for you. It probably won't change your life, but you'll probably feel a little more energetic for about a day.

Zines are available again!

2010-10-10T17:10:00.001-05:00

I know you've all been losing sleep over Microcosm being out of stock of the SMBHBD zines, but fear no more! I got my lazy self all the way to the post office this week (it was a trek - like half a mile or something) and filled their order. Buy away!

8 Cringe-worthy Customer Antics

2010-10-02T17:33:00.000-05:00

By Rebecca

Reading this week’s City Pages list “The 7 habits of highly annoying food servers” got me thinking. First, kudos to City Pages for giving props to the good servers out there, and secondly for nailing the nuances of “annoying” servers on the head. (These servers annoy the good servers, too, as they are the ones skipping out on side work, leaving dirty dishes strewn or just generally getting in the way.)

While some servers just suck, are bitchy, or dish their anger/disappointment with their job to customers unfairly, customers can have some pretty unflattering habits themselves. Here, a reflective look at the eight customer behaviors that incense and degrade, turning dinner out into a hellish day at the office for food servers. While most customers are generally amiable, tip properly according to service and treat their servers like actual people, here’s a rundown of those who don’t:

1. The Obnoxious Interacter

Waving someone down, especially when they are walking toward you anyway, is obnoxious. So is shaking you glass at your server (which is supposed to mean you need a refill right? I’m not fluent in Caveman) and commenting on how you were “wondering where I’d been!” or “thought I’d never come back!” after you had shooed me away/ignored me ten times in the last 20 minutes as I tried to take your order. Suddenly, you’re starving, and need to order. Right. Now. Meaning that although I have been attentive and have been given strong vibes to leave you alone/not intrude on your highly important conversation (see #3), I shall suddenly drop the tray of food I’m carrying to a neighboring table because you’re waving me down to place an emergency order.

2. Sticker Shock Abusers

As a server, it is my sole decision to charge $34 for the ribeye, to have a side salads be an upcharge, and to skyrocket the market price on the lobster, and I should be admonished for the appalling price points. Better yet, don’t ask the price of that glass of wine you ordered, and then balk when it’s $9. I don’t want to assume you’re cheap or insult you by an “Excuse me, sir, you do realize that’s a nine-dollar glass of wine right?” Okay, just checking, since now you think I think you look like a person who can’t swing a nine-dollar glass of wine.

3. The VID/C (Very Important Diners/Conversations)

How dare I, the lowly bringer of food and drink, approach your table and expect interaction concerning the bringing of said food and drink. I didn’t realize you were out to eat and wanting to be brought cocktails and food without discussion between your server and your table. Yes, your business lunch is important, and that HI-larious story regaling your girlfriend’s dating gaffe is enthralling, but if you want to eat or drink, you’re going to need to take a polite pause from conversation and acknowledge me standing beside your table waiting for a break in conversation to wait on you, or it is sure to turn into an Obnoxious Interaction (see #1).

4. The Campers

It’s a free country, and diners can sit as long as they damn well please. Sure, it may bend the unspoken rule of “taking up a table” or whatnot, but generally we servers don’t care. What is rude is when you and your gal pal want to sip water for four hours after your meal, the last sixty minutes of which you refuse water refills and insist there’s nothing else you need in an annoyed manner. You are completely done, and want us to leave you alone already. Yet, you asked for the check, it has been sitting untouched, and we know you will suddenly need it taken care of immediately after sitting there unnoticed forever. (Again, see #1). If you ask for it, please, pay it in a somewhat timely fashion! If you don’t ask for it, fair enough. You know you’re going to have to pay eventually anyway, and maybe if you don’t request the check, we won’t feel like we have to stop by every fifteen minutes drowning you in damn water refills.

5. The Common Senseless

Yes, I know you asked me for some extra dressing. I acknowledged and confirmed I would supply it. I also know that you saw I had a huge tray of plates on my shoulder as I walked by. I could see you stare me down out of the corner of my eye as I handed out your fellow diners at their fare at the neighboring booth. As I grab the now-vacant tray to head back to the kitchen, you repeat coldly “Miss? My dressing? Hello?” Really? You remember that huge tray of hot food I had on my shoulder? Remember seeing me pass it out? That’s right, I haven’t made it back to the kitchen in the last thirty seconds after your request, and I know you realized this, as your gaze was fixed on me the entire time. Unless you have some kind of medical condition that requires more blue cheese stat, I figure you’ll understand that I’m working on it. If you do have this blue-cheese deficiency, maybe grab us by the arm as we walk by with a heavy tray of food. We love that.

6. The Insult Comics

A word about the insult comics— they aren’t funny. You want a Rob Roy, dry, up, with blue cheese olives? Got it. No, I got it. Your drink order is not the most sophisticated or complicated part of my day, and there’s no need to do the slow speech/loud voice thing. Also, it’s so hilarious that you joke about me groveling for gratuity, or when the prime rib is out, you comment, “There goes your tip.” Since I do make the all the rules (see #2). Har har har. It amazes you when I can actually split up you and your cronies’ tabs, divide the app in thirds to be shared on the bills, and run your credit card. Wow, pretty good “for a server,” you say. Your server may be studying for her doctorate in psychology for all you know, and may have some insight on why your date looks less than impressed with your flashy ordering (see #7) and uncouth regaling of your server.

7. The All-Flash, No-Cash Big Shots

This customer announces (loudly and more than once) that the evening’s “on them,” they’ll be one check, and that everyone should order whatever they want. Their dinner party goes off without so such as a crumb disgracing his or her table, everyone was catered to, and is happy and full. Mr. or Mrs. Bigshot repeats to you that they’ve got it, “bring the bill to me.” They have set up quite the stage of generosity, yet you have an eight-percent tip staring you in the face. As a polite server who would never want to insult your customers, you take it quietly. You smile and say no, thank you, and are repaid with the famous verbal tip: “You did an excellent job. Everything was perfect.” This isn’t for your benefit, it’s for the audience of diners at Bigshot’s table, and you won’t be applying that verbal tip to your hefty student loans, it seems. Wonderful.

8. The Preemptive Askers

“Hi folks, how are we this evening? My name is Rebec-…“ “Captain coke. Lime” Wow, ‘cause I wasn’t getting to that part, dude. This customer can’t wait long enough to hear your name, and will then ask you snidely “were you going to tell us your name?” Yes, I was getting to it, but your need for a Captain/coke took over, and you cut me off. They will bombard you with “Well? Do you have any specials, or what? “ just as you’re saying “Tonight we have a few spec-“ You’re going to wish you hadn’t cut me off when I was trying to ask what brings you out for dinner that night, Rude Dude, cause it’s your birthday, and now you’re going to miss out on our stellar cheesecake and champagne that comes complimentary on celebrations. Next time, let me get a word in.

Slowy McSlowpoke

2010-10-01T22:29:00.000-05:00

Some of you have written to tell me that Microcosm is sold out of zine #1. It's true--and it's totally my fault. Microcosm ordered more a while ago and because of several reasons (work, more work, leaving a stack of copies sitting at Kinko's and not realizing until a couple days later...) I haven't gotten more to them. But thanks to the many manic sleepless nights I experience (which were the subject of a completely different zine a few years ago), I'll be sending issues #1 and #2 off, fresh from the printer, tomorrow. Microcosm should have them in a few days, and if you'd like you can order them directly from me: shemustbehavingabadday [at] gmail [dot] com. Word.

How DO you deal with a bitchy waitress? Hmm. Let's ask the Internet.

2010-09-26T20:16:00.002-05:00

Oh, Yahoo! Answers. You never fail to be unintentionally hilarious. Handy tip for dining out: "If she hits you, sue tf outta her."

SMBHBD is famous!

2010-09-26T19:46:00.003-05:00

OK, maybe not famous. But a little more well known, across the pond at least. The very awesome Teal Triggs, who is a professor, author and scholar of all things graphic design at London College of Communication, happens to be a fan of She Must Be Having a Bad Day. She was a guest blogger on the (very legit) London-based blog It's Nice That last week, and in her list of favorite zines she gave SMBHBD a super-nice shout-out.

Teal is not only publishing a book about zine design (Fanzines, which comes out in October and which I'm so excited to read), but she runs a really cool blog herself, Zine Weekly. BUY HER BOOK. SERIOUSLY.

This also means that the many people who followed the link to this here blog from It's Nice That (thank you!) have tipped the scales. When I checked the blog stats the other day, the number-one country of origin for visits was the United Kingdom! I don't know why so many Brits, Scots, Welsh and Northern Irish folks looking at my lil' old blog makes me so nervous and excited, but it does. I hereby promise to update more often. You know, for the Brits.

It never fails

2010-09-25T23:23:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever, ever stop thinking like a food-serving drone. Am I doomed to a life of waiting on others, or at least thinking I should be? I stopped into one of my favorite Middle Eastern restaurants the other day to order lunch to go. While I was waiting for my food (which took forever, but was totally worth it), I watched the restaurant's one server. As she performed the elaborate lunch rush dance of taking orders, bringing them back into the kitchen, bringing out food, ringing customers up and clearing their dishes, I anticipated almost every movement. As customers at a table finished eating, I knew she would be out momentarily to bring their check and clear their plates. I knew when she'd come out to fill the water glasses.

That multi-tasking thought process isn't necessarily something I want to forget, but it's not necessarily what I want to think about while waiting for my delicious chicken kebabs and hummus.

She Must Be Having a Bad Day #2 is available!

2010-09-19T21:18:00.001-05:00

It's been a while but I guess I never mentioned this: She Must Be Having a Bad Day #2 is out! I sold a bunch at Twin Cities Zinefest in July and have already had to print a second run, which I believe is a personal record. My favorite online zine retailer, Microcosm, will be selling it and you can always buy copies directly from me if you'd like (shemustbehaveingabadday [at] gmail [dot] com). The second zine has quite a few contributions from other servers/baristas and even includes a longer fiction piece! I'll be posting some snippets every once in a while.

Ain't that the truth

2010-08-23T18:39:00.000-05:00

I'm all for proper grammar and punctuation, but...

2010-08-16T10:57:00.000-05:00

This lady just seems hellbent on being obnoxious. Yes, Starbucks' use of "tall," "venti," etc. is pretty ridiculous. But there's an easier option: If it annoys you that much, don't go to Starbucks. I love that the cops had to come and forcibly remove her. Her students probably hate her, too.

Also, you live in New York, lady--why the hell are you going to Starbucks for a bagel?!

Twin Cities Zinefest 2010 is almost here!

2010-06-13T11:47:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe, but Zinefest is almost here! Come on down to Stevens Square Center for the Arts on July 10 to partake in all the handmade goodness - and to get the second volume of She Must Be Having a Bad Day. I'm hard at work on it right now, and feel pretty good about it. There are a few more contributors this time around so you'll be able to read even more crazy tales of the food-service industry.

CAN'T WAIT!

STFU Parents

2010-06-05T19:47:00.000-05:00

This blog has some amazing parents dining out with kids stories. Especially this one.

I believe in peace, bitch

2010-05-19T20:29:00.000-05:00

In addition to the Heavens to Betsy song I posted earlier, here's another waitress-related song: Tori Amos' "The Waitress". While my interest in Tori Amos has waxed and waned over the years, there's no denying the power of her voice and her songwriting. This song especially is so minimalist yet so aptly conveys the rage and sarcasm in its lyrics. Hell, who hasn't wanted to kill a self-righteous coworker?

So I want to kill this waitress
She's worked here a year longer than I
If I did it fast you know that's an act of kindness

But I believe in peace
I believe in peace Bitch
I believe in peace
I believe in peace
But I believe in peace
I believe in peace Bitch
I believe in peace

I want to kill this waitress
I can't believe this violence in mind
And is her power all in her club sandwich

But I believe in peace
I believe in peace Bitch
I believe in peace
I believe in peace
But I believe in peace
I believe in peace Bitch
I believe in peace

I want to kill this killing wish
There're too many stars and not enough sky
Boys all think she's living kindness
Ask a fellow waitress
Ask a fellow waitress

Madison Zinefest - October 2, 2010

2010-05-17T20:44:00.000-05:00

If you're in the Madison area (or within reasonable roadtrip distance), check out the Madison Zinefest in October. Tables are free and there are still some available!

Translation

2010-05-17T19:40:00.006-05:00

What you say: "Oh, I think we’re too full for dessert."

What your server hears: "I’m too embarrassed to order dessert and make a pig of myself in front of my friends, but I’m definitely going to hide in my pantry and gorge myself on Cherry Garcia and Double Stuf Oreos when I get home. But thanks!"

Twin Cities Zinefest 2010 announced!

2010-02-09T14:51:00.001-06:00

Hey everybody! Twin Cities Zinefest 2010 (which in my humble, albeit completely biased, opinion is fantastic) has just been announced. TC Zinefest is where it all started for me...my friend Karen convinced me to exhibit a few years ago, I made my first zine for the occasion, and the rest is history.

Twin Cities Zinefest 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
11:00 AM to 5:00 PMStevens Square Center for the Arts, 1905 3rd Ave S, Minneapolis, MN, 55404.
Admission is free
More info at www.zinefest.org

If you're a comic artist/zinester who would like to have a table, get more info on participating here.

Kids these days

2010-01-24T13:57:00.000-06:00

When I was working as a barista, people would sometimes steal our tips out of the tip jar (or sometimes the whole jar itself). One day, I walked away from the bar to talk to a coworker and as I walked back, I made eye contact with a kid, probably 10 or 11 years old. We both froze and it took me about half a second to realize he had his hand inside the tip jar. I had recently started working at this place after being unemployed for a while and I was literally broke, basically living off my tips and using my paycheck to pay rent. It had been an especially busy day and the jar was pretty full, and there was no way in hell I was going to let some little brat take my hard-earned money.

Luckily, the manager at the time was a friend of mine and we both immediately left our work posts and ran down the street after the group of kids (sadly, we were pretty used to running after people as there was an overabundance of shoplifters in this neighborhood. I would also often see the servers from the restaurant across the street chase after people who had dined and dashed. Jerks!). I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. Unfortunately, a group of 10-year-olds are much faster than a couple of 20-something smokers. I was winded after the first block and I literally cried exactly one tear as the kids ran away screaming and laughing with my wad of dollar bills.

"That was all the money I had," I remember saying.

One of the kids ditched their bike during the getaway and Eric, the best coworker in the world, called the neighborhood police officer and handed the bike over. We figured that if the kids had the nerve to come back for it, they or their parents have to get the bike back from the police. We laughed about how they would be in SO much trouble. Being of a different generation than these children, we assumed that they feared the wrath (or at least respected the authority) of adults - if not of us, then definitely of the cops. Wrong. The children of the Selby-Dale neighborhood in St. Paul, Minnesota fear no one.

The kid who ditched his bike - in an attempt to flee the scene of a theft he committed - sent his thug-ish dad (or maybe big brother) to retrieve the bike. The dude rolled up in an Escalade with tinted windows, blinged out to the nines. He strolled in and got in Eric's face, demanding that he return the bike. Luckily we had given it to the cops, otherwise Eric may not be with us today - this guy was pissed off. Eric held his ground though, and explained the kid had been stealing from the store and left the bike while running away (thus, ahem, doing something wrong). I don't know about you, but if a manager at a store told my parents that I had been stealing and ditched my bike at the store I was stealing from, not only would my dad have left the bike (hopefully to be given to a less-fortunate kid who deserved it more, as he often threatened), but I would have had been dragged by the elbow into that store to apologize and return the money before I could even count it. I stole Barbie clothes from my daycare lady once, and after my mom forcing me not only to return them, but to admit what I did, I more than learned my lesson.

But here's a lesson I've learned about modern day children - not only from this experience, but from serving people with kids: they don't give a shit, and usually, neither do their parents. I know everyone parents differently, but I'd like to think "Don't steal money from people" and "If you leave your bike on the sidewalk while running away from stealing from someone, you might not get your bike back" would be commonly held values. Maybe not.

Angry customer fail

2010-01-23T20:29:00.002-06:00

Love it.

If you can't afford to tip, you can't afford to go out to eat

2010-01-20T19:50:00.000-06:00

If you're on the Facebook, join this group.

Vicarious fury

2010-01-20T19:48:00.002-06:00

I know I'm just a customer now, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to punch rude customers in the face. This lady just barked her order at the barista and then was a total jerk to her. KARMA, BITCH!

It's OK, I'm a regular

2010-01-10T13:57:00.000-06:00

Regulars...oy vey.

I've only been a regular at a couple establishments in my life (mostly bars when I was in my early 20s). But I hope I was never obnoxious like some of the regulars I've had. Here are some tips from the zine:

Wanna buy a zine?

2010-01-02T13:07:00.000-06:00

The print zine version of She Must Be Having a Bad Day (originally published in July 2008) has just been restocked at Microcosm Publishing. Buy it here! They've sold out three or four times now, so thanks to everyone who has bought one. Hopefully volume two will be ready in time for Twin Cities Zinefest in July!

Reunited and it feels so...awkward?

2009-12-27T12:05:00.000-06:00

It's been a couple years since I've made a cappuccino or served a meal to anyone, but I still run into old customers occasionally. Quite often at parties, a friend (mostly the ones who live in St. Paul, which is where I last worked in food service) will introduce me to their friend and the conversation will go like this:

Friend of friend: "You look so familiar. Did you go to [name of college - they usually guess art school if I'm wearing my glasses]?"
Me: "Nope."
FoF: "Hmm. Did you used to be friends/roommates with/date [name of another friend]?"
Me: "No, I don't think I know that person."
FoF: "Weird, I swear I know you from somewhere."
(awkward silence)
Me: "*Sigh*...Well, did you used to go to [place I used to work], by chance?"
FoF: "Oh, yeah, I live right by there! That's where I know you from. You used to make my coffee!"
Me: "Yep, that's it. I worked there for eight years."

It's at this point that the conversation goes one of two ways. Choose your own adventure!

1. The person is cool and has other things to talk about besides where I used to work, or will actually be interested in my non-food service life in addition to talking about what kind of smoothie they used to like. I like when this happens, as sometimes I make a new friend.

2. The person is kind of clueless and will then try to have a conversation with me about nothing but my former workplace. I've had people grill me about whether they are hiring, why the price of something has gone up, bitching about how the menu has changed. I usually try to take it with a grain of salt, but some people revert to customer mode when they find out I used to serve them, and it's kind of irritating.

Although it should be noted that I absolutely love it when people tell me how much worse the food/service has gotten since I left. Because it's TOTALLY TRUE ;)

Servitude abroad

2009-12-21T22:22:00.001-06:00

I just spent a week on the lovely little island of Anguilla (and if you're wondering how I can afford such a vacation, it's because my boss at my office job owns a home there and is very generous with his Christmas gifts).

As much fun as the vacation was and as relaxed as I felt, I still got a little uptight over the whole "rich (um, relatively) white person travelling to mostly black country to stay in huge house and lay on the beach while being served by the locals who live in shacks and work for peanuts" thing. I believe this is generally described as White Guilt, however I attribute my feelings more to class issues than to race. But I digress...

Just about everyone we encountered on the island was remarkably friendly, especially the servers. As this is kind of a spendy island to visit, these folks are used to dealing with celebrities (OMG Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt totally broke up there!) and other wealthy people. There are no cruise ships or flocks of fanny pack-wearing tourists coming in, and no "Give Up the Booty!" shot glasses with drawings of a pirate's hook dangling a thong - you have to go to St. Martin for that. So since I wasn't really there on my own dime, it was kind of hard for me to reconcile my own serving experiences with the experience of being waited on hand and foot.

When we thought the rental car's tire might have a leak, the chef from the restaurant we were visiting came out of the kitchen and promised to change the tire or take care of whatever we needed. The chef! When have you known an American chef to a) not be a sociopath and/or drunk and b) ever in a million years take it upon him or herself to actually provide customer service?! "You go to the beach and have all the fun you need," is what he said to me when I started to freak a little. "We'll take care of whatever you need." Go, James! Our server at another place, Jerell, remembered us and the plans we had told him about four days prior.

I kept trying to figure out if people were being nice to us because we were white, and therefore presumably rich tourists in need of coddling, or if it was because we were nice, and therefore presumably not assholes. It's kind of an uncomfortable thought, but maybe there are people who can just truly be happy serving other people, race and class aside. Maybe the servers of Anguilla are proud of their country and of the fact that people come there to experience paradise. Maybe they don't get any bitchy customers because it is paradise. Hell, if I lived there I wouldn't mind slinging rum punch on the beach, even if the customers were dicks. And if Minnesota somehow became a sought-after vacation spot and Anguillans like James and Jerell were my customers, I would go back to serving in a heartbeat.

Bein thankful...ur doin it rite!

2009-11-25T22:28:00.001-06:00

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

As you prepare and serve your holiday feast (personally, I just finished making the cranberries) I hope you will not only take the time to realize how thankful you are for your friends and family, your health and the awesome food you're about to devour, I hope you'll *perhaps* remember all the service employees (retail, food and otherwise) who work on holidays. I can't even count the number of busy Wednesday night close/Thanksgiving morning opens I've had to pull in my life. It's really stressful!

Also, be thankful for all the wonderful servers and cooks who make and serve you delicious food (and clean up after you) every time you go out to eat. Think of how tired you are after cooking for and serving 12 people...see why there is such thing as a tip?

But seriously, Happy Thanksgiving and be well!

Waitress Hell

2009-11-21T15:27:00.000-06:00

I had forgotten all about this old Heavens to Betsy song, Waitress Hell (you may know Corin Tucker from H2B from her later band, Sleater-Kinney). Their only album, Calculated came out in 1994 and I think I first heard it around 1995 or so, after I'd gotten obsessively into Bikini Kill and was a full-fledged Riot Grrrl (or at least the tamer, teenage, polite midwestern English-class revolutionary version of a Riot Grrrl). Listening to it now, it's just as good. Maybe even better now that I've lived it.

miss, i need another glass, this one is smudged and my
lips are too precious for this
we want the window table clear and set it for us
it's not too busy for us
bring a million different things to my table on a silver
platter you've got nothing better to do
if you smile really big and kiss my whitey ass
maybe you'll get a dollar today

you're going to waitress hell
you're gonna burn in my hell

yeah i just do this job for a hobby so
don't worry about a tip
4.25/hr suits me fine yeah i just love to serve
sure i'll take your plate your glass your bowl and then
i'll wipe your chin
and in the end i'm covered in your shit-
you look at me like i'm the dirty one

you're going to waitress hell
you're gonna burn in my hell

To inconvenience, or not to inconvenience

2009-10-26T22:48:00.001-05:00

I waffle on this subject a lot: are you really "inconveniencing" someone whose job it is to serve you? And if you are, does it matter?

When this question inevitably comes up in a restaurant or bar, your friends probably all have differing theories. What's surprising is those who have worked in food service aren't always the ones wanting to give the waitress a break or tip the bartender extra just because. Out of habit, I usually leave generous tips but sometimes I catch myself - I'm just about as broke as a server and if the service was bad (truly bad, not just that I went somewhere insanely busy on a Friday night and had to wait five minutes longer than normal) I will tip exactly 15 percent, possibly less. I will sometimes not ask for something because it seems like it will inconvenience somebody, but then I remember - that's their job. When I was serving, I would much rather have someone assertively ask for (or remind me of) what they need rather than pull that passive-aggressive bullshit of "Oh, I don't want to bother her. Now I'll just be quietly upset all night that I didn't get extra salad dressing, and tell everyone later that the service was bad."

I was visiting friends in Brooklyn this weekend and while we were walking back to the train a little before 2 AM, we (unbelievably) couldn't find any late-night food options in the neighborhood we were in (I know, not even pizza! In Brooklyn!). Drunk and hungry, we finally stumbled upon a hot dog place. They closed at 2, and one of my companions and I declared we didn't want to be "assholes" and go into an establishment a few minutes before closing. They were probably cleaning up and wanting to go home. Our other friend, annoyed with our passivity, reminded us that the restaurant was open until 2, and made a living off of providing food for people. It's their JOB. Distracted and drunk, we wandered away from the hot dog place but I thought about it later - she's right. It's their job. In fact, I just got pissed off at a bakery in a small town a couple weeks ago where I went in a half-hour before closing and basically could not get them to sell me anything because it was all "put away." How annoying.

On a side note, the friend who reminded us that the hot dog people make a living off of selling hot dogs, and would probably be glad to do so even right before closing, is a former server and even worked at the same restaurant as me in high school. She also once left a condescending biyatch waitress at some crappy tapas bar in Uptown a bunch of scattered change on the table as a tip after she was excruciatingly rude to us.

Proof that fairness doesn't always mean accommodation, even if you're trained to think that way.

Crying at work

2009-10-18T16:15:00.000-05:00

Once I was a customer when a barista started crying. She burned herself on the steam wand (which you get used to pretty quickly working in a job like that). She tried to hide it at first and when I asked if she was OK, she just muttered "yeah." But it quickly became apparent that either due to the burn or (more likely) due to other things, she was not. I tried to send her telepathic messages. "It's OK. I'm one of the good ones. You can let it out." And as if she heard me, she started crying. I told her I knew what she felt like since I'd burned myself about a million times on steam wands all over the Minneapolis metro area, but what I was really saying is that I know what she felt like because I know what it's like to be treated like shit all day. To know that despite that, if you want to make any money, you have to be nice to everyone no matter what's going on at home or at work or in your head.

One time...

2009-10-12T21:40:00.000-05:00

I cut myself pitting an avocado and bled all over someone's sandwich. I told him I was going to get somebody else to take care of his order and he simply asked, "How long will that take?" Meanwhile I cradled my hand as blood pooled on the floor.

Jane Adams, you are a bitch

2009-10-08T09:12:00.003-05:00

Wow. This is amazing. It pisses me off in so many ways.

I understand why the restaurant is so concerned with its image but give me a break. This woman walked out on her $14 tab. Plain and simple. Any of you who have worked in a restaurant know that if a customer dines and dashes, your manager will literally kick your ass out the door to chase them down the street. And in some places the server will get stuck paying the tab out of his or her pocket. It is simply not acceptable for a grown-up (especially a “celebrity”) to eat at a restaurant and not pay. OK, so you “left your wallet in your car.” Go get it and come right back. Have one of your entourage or your driver or your fellow actors who have nothing but time and money bring you $20. Don’t think because you’re on a TV show, you don’t have to pay for the food you eat.

This also brings up some really interesting questions about how free those who deal with the public are to speak about their jobs. Would it be OK for Jon-Barrett Ingels to tweet about the same thing if it were a non-famous customer? It’s not like he was even making it up; it did happen. And he wasn’t completely negative about it; he complimented her acting for chrissakes! Servers by trade deal all day with people who have delusions of grandeur, so why is it such a crime to point it out when it happens? The bitch should be thanking him for putting her on the radar (who the hell is this woman anyway? I’ve never even heard of her or her show).

I just feel horrible that he got fired for this. I know there are millions of worse injustices in the world, but this one just really upsets me. It’s not enough that you get walked on all day, but when you try to express yourself in order to deal with your crappy job, you get fired for it. I hope Jane Adams is happy that her absentmindedness (or maybe just cheapness) and her bitchy little tirade cost someone the ability to make a living.

Coffee Shop Crushes

2009-10-06T15:07:00.004-05:00

I could go on for days about the psychological and social aspects of the customer-server relationship. In fact, I think I literally do go on for days about it in the SMBHBD print zine...which has just been restocked at Microcosm by the way, if you'd like to order one.

There's a great zine called Coffee Shop Crushes, which might be out of print now, where people pour their hearts out about the baristas they've obsessed over and how they've (usually) embarrassed themselves trying to express it. The common theme seems to be that coffee shop crushes are better left to the imagination. To force one into a relationship hardly ever works and the result is usually a) humiliation b) awkwardness and c) having to find a new coffee shop. It's just kind of funny how people are so intrigued by their servers and baristas (it goes the other way too, but that's an entirely different subject).

Unfortunately, I've lived it. My last boyfriend, whom I dated for three years, started out as one of my regular customers (he later also became a coworker - again an entirely different subject). He wooed me by ordering carrot juice every day and sitting for an hour trying to talk to me about music. Always a sucker for a guy who actually recognizes that I actually know quite a bit about music, I finally gave in and hung out with him outside of work. Three years later, cut to me crying on Christmas Day while hauling home the presents my mom bought for him and finding out that instead of skipping my family Christmas to catch up on sleep, he had skipped my family Christmas to go to the bar - with another girl. Granted, this could happen in any relationship, but I think the early dynamics of our server-customer relationship had something to do with it.

There are some customers who use their local coffee shop, restaurant or bar as a dating pool. Once I went out on a date with a different customer (who it turned out was already sleeping with another customer who was a friend of mine) and he spent the entire time trying to get me drunk and talking about how smart he was. He was so smart that after I left him sitting at the table and walked out, he would still come to my workplace, set up shop for a couple hours and try to talk to me. And would come in when I was not working and ask my coworkers for my work schedule.

The point is, I really don't think the customer-server relationship can ever work. Friends, maybe. Drinking buddies, yes. But the conditions are not ideal for anything meaningful because the dynamics are already so fucked up.

I'm mostly writing this for all the lonely middle-aged guys out there who think that barista at Starbucks who remembered your drink or the waitress at Applebee's who gave you a free side of ranch has some sort of attachment to you. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but she does not. Just please don't even go there for everyone's sake.

The lost art of being effectively charming

2009-09-30T23:55:00.002-05:00

There are basically two types of male servers: those who are aloof but good at their jobs, and those who feel compelled to act silly or (I hate this word) charming. Think this. The first type are pretty forgettable but the second type make my skin crawl. The ones who saunter up to you and your grandma with a drawn-out "Hellooooo, laaaadieeees. How are we this fine evening?" A sly little wink here, perhaps a crazy flip of the ketchup bottle. Flirts with grandma a little bit, makes her feel like she's 40 again. You know the type. He probably won't even write down your order because he's just that good. He might even (wow!) sit down at your table while you give him your order. What a crazy guy! These are the kind of servers all the other servers hate because they kiss so much ass. Every normal server has a more-than-healthy level of cynicism but these guys are the type that are always upbeat, try to speak Spanish with the dishwashers and defend the customer when you bitch about one. Rest assured the rest of the kitchen and the waitstaff are all rolling their eyes at this douche.

I. hate. those. servers. But you know they need tips, so more power to them I guess.

What I hate even more is when the people with whom I am dining (most likely my boss or relatives) buy into that crap and think the dude really likes them or something. It's just uncomfortable for everyone, especially if you've been on both sides of the interaction before.

But then came Jim. Jim is a server who restored my faith in male food service workers and the fact that they can be, ahem, charming without being all fake wacky and silly to win you over. They can just be slightly insane. Jim started off normal enough, bringing us water and taking our orders. He was totally flirting, but it wasn't weird. He was being genuinely nice, not creepy or annoying at all. Apparently when I was in the restroom, he came up to my dining companion when she wasn't looking and said something in a really high-pitched voice. When she turned around, he asked if she had thought that had been a woman. She said yes, and he replied, "I hate when that happens," then walked away. WTF, that makes NO sense. Jim was pleasant, attentive and hilarious throughout the entire meal. I almost looked forward to him coming back to check on us so I could hear what crazy thing he had to say next. I felt like a 60-year-old woman at TGI Friday's.

He ended up not charging me for the extra item I ordered or my drinks, which effectively cut my bill in half. Call me grandma because I totally fell for it - and tipped him 40 percent. Good job, Jim.

What are you waiting for?

2009-09-29T00:09:00.001-05:00

Jens Lekman started it.

When I hosted the morning show on Radio K, I would always play a song by whatever musician had a birthday that day (btw, did you know Leslie Feist and Henry Rollins share the same birthday - what does that say for astrology? Also, I have the same birthday as Jello Biafra, which is awesome).

That's how I realized that Jens Lekman is the same age as me. Well, four months older. It was right there on Wikipedia. I'll tell you what, I can pinpoint this as the exact moment when I became conscious of my mortality.

Ever since then, I've had the biggest complex about my age. Jens Lekman may be a balding, persnickety, depressed Swede (who apparently has swine flu) but he's accomplished things. He's done stuff. He's made music, toured, and people love him. I became obsessed with knowing how old people are and comparing myself. Jessica Alba's my age. Shit, she may be a dumb celebrity but she's made movies and is rich and has a baby. I don't really want any of those things, but at least she's doing something. And what if it turns out I do actually want those things? What if by the time I figure that out, it's too late?

I have an irrational seething hatred for anyone who is younger and more successful than me. People in their early and mid-20s who own houses (or even who can afford not to have a roommate), own businesses, tour with their awesome bands, are in happy relationships, follow their creative pursuits. All of the above. Obviously it's just jealousy. What have I done on the 10 years I've been out of high school (something I've been thinking about way too much since my 10-year reunion this summer)? Um, let's see.. I served a lot of food and beverages to people and cleaned up a lot of their messes, figuratively and literally. Perhaps I changed somebody's life by making them a really awesome smoothie one day. None of my many musical endeavors I've participated in since I was 14 ever got off the ground (the all-girl AC/DC cover band did play once, I think), I never have time for printmaking, barely have time to write and haven't traveled that much. I work in an office just to pay off all the school debt and wasteful spending of my early 20s. I've been trying without success for five years to save up enough money to move away from Minnesota so I don't continue to be crippled by depression every single winter. So it really pisses me off when some 23-year-old gets some great job, buys an amazing house or takes off to Europe for a year.

I think what I'm really mad at is myself. I could have done great things but I chose not to, out of fear or anxiety or self-consciousness (although to my credit, many of the young people I know who do all the things I'd like to do are from wealthy families. Just sayin'). Whenever I've pondered throwing caution to the wind and taking a huge risk, that midwestern, self-deprecating, sensible voice in my head has kicked in. You will fail. Just keep doing what you're doing. You're just a waitress (or barista or cashier or mediocre graphic designer or whatever). Is there something in the FFSW (female food service worker) mentality that makes a great server but a horrible self-motivator? Maybe people who are great at serving and anticipating the needs of others just can't really do it for themselves.

Time to grow up and get the F over it, huh?

Thank you, little fucker

2009-09-27T16:25:00.000-05:00

I love this story so much. What dumbass trashy parents, and what stupid employees. I only wish I had thought of doing that at some point because it is pretty hilarious. Who do the parents think they are going to the media? Who the F cares? So your precious kid was whining and the employees got annoyed. It happens every day. Whaaa. Maybe it's you.

I swear, some people think the world should bow at their feet because they made the life choice to procreate. And to eat at shitty, overpriced restaurants.

Oh, bebes

2009-09-09T19:29:00.000-05:00

School started this week and it's strange (although a huge relief) not to be going back. It was orientation last week at the University of Minnesota and while walking around I got caught in a sea of freshmen walking back to the dorms. I heard one tiny little baby nervously say to his friend, "I sure hope I picked the right career."

Part of me was really jealous. I wish I could be that young and naive again, my 20s stretching out in front of me, knowing the little choices I made at the time would make a huge impact on my adult life - and actually using that knowledge to do something. Of course I'd only go back if I knew what I know now, otherwise I'm sure 18-year-old me would still stupidly waste her 20s held back by fear, anxiety, self doubt and blind devotion. Trying to find purpose in making coffee for rich people and loving people who don't want to be loved. Finding comfort in predictable unhappiness and postponing fulfillment.

Part of me wanted to burst his bubble. Tell him that 10 years later, he's probably going to be like me - still broke, still lost and only slightly smarter - with a long resume detailing all the ways you've failed. It doesn't matter what career you pick when you're 18. You'll end up where you end up and you'll learn to be happy just to have a job. It's sad, but it really is true. A job is a job is a job. As long as you're doing something where you can make decent money by doing something you don't despise, who cares? The rest of your life is your time, and that's what you should concentrate on.

Contemplating a return to the familiar

2009-08-29T20:42:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting in this cafe, and instead of enjoying my food, people watching or working, I’m marveling at the organization of this place. My anal-retentive control freak side is drooling over the way they’ve utilized racks, trays and containers to store equipment and food in a way that eliminates clutter and is efficient for the servers. It’s fucking crazy how organized and well designed this place is. I want my house to be like this.

Usually in cafes and diners, the area behind the counter is a complete mess. I spent many of my years working in a juice bar making futile attempts to get our little area half as de-cluttered and structured as this. It’s hard to understand unless you’ve worked in one of these places. Usually the workspace is illogically laid out, not to mention an ergonomic nightmare. But you just get used to it after a while and your body teaches itself to bend and contort in ways it shouldn’t in order to make your job easier. I remember coming home after eight or nine hours on my feet and not being able to get back up when I finally sat down. It was inconvenient to put down floor mats (they were easy to trip over and people would never sweep or mop under them). Customers couldn’t be re-trained to order on one side of the bar, so I was constantly spinning my head around. It would never fail that you’d be helping someone on one side and another customer would come up behind you and “ahem” you repeatedly until you turned around.

It was chaos. I worked the day shift alone, Sunday through Thursday. I’d get there at 7 to prep and be out of everything by 10 or 11. I’d re-caffeinate and keep trucking through the lunch rush. It would be one thing if it had been an organized space. But the milk was 25 feet away from the espresso machine, the coffee grinder was in the back of the store, and you had to contort your body into a pretzel just to get mustard for somebody’s sandwich.

But this place has a dishwasher. And line cooks. And two barista/servers working together! And, it would appear, a manager who helps the employees. This is a strange new world. I almost want to apply for a job here. It’s all the good parts of the service industry: informal attitude, cool atmosphere, beautifully choreographed and efficient service, tips, working with your friends…and I’m pretty sure my waitress is drinking a beer on her break.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go back to the food service industry. Maybe I can make it again as a waitress. Those tips are mighty tempting. Not a lot of stress, comfortable, more time to work on other things like artwork and zines (theoretically, at least).

Part of me feels more ambitious than that. I should set my sights on some dream job like I’ve been trying to do for years now. Keep on plugging away at what I know I want to do; go with the five-year plan (which has now turned into a ten-year one). I should get paid to do what I paid to learn to do, right? I was a double major with a minor—I should have no problems finding a job. And part of me thinks that this is ambition—making a conscious decision to reject the path I’m supposed to follow. The search for which has caused me endless hours of frustration, self-loathing and depression. I’ve already wandered so far off that path that it wouldn’t really matter. Why do I care what job I have as long as I make money? In a way, that’s kind of like asking who cares who you have sex with as long as you get laid, and that is a slippery slope.

I don’t know. I just don’t know. But I think I’m ready to pick up a job application on my way out.