Things are really slowing down on the job scene in the run up to Christmas, and while I’m not at the poverty-stricken, struggling writer status JUST yet, I have seriously been considering becoming a Bondi waitress for a while. I know this is sort of taking a backward step in the career stakes, BUT… the more I think about it, who gives a crap, really? The beach is GORGEOUS at the moment. I’d get to see it every day, instead of miserable office workers moaning about deadlines. Instead of writing things I don’t care about, I’ll be able to talk to humans about food items. And I do love food.
OK, so the pay is shit. We’re talking absolutely diabolical to be honest, but what if I meet a hot waiter who’ll become my muse? What if I meet a whole heap of struggling creative types and we bond over learning different types of breads at the staff training day? We could stuff olives together, mix rocket salad with chunks of pumpkin, snigger over which yummy mummy is really doing which daddy at the brunch table. We could sing songs together in the kitchen, about fading dreams and filthy uniforms. Such things, I feel, would have far more value than my weekly pay cheque. Such unity would enhance my life and inspire me, such camaraderie would only help my mind to flourish and bloom. Probably.
Anyway, I have been working on my customer service CV in preparation. I’ve actually had quite a lot of experience, off and on throughout the years, though I’m not really entirely sure what today’s waitress needs to prove? What do you think?
While I’ve been concentrating on writing and digital media throughout my “career”, I’ve worked the following roles in the customer service industry:
Age 14: Waitress at my local fish and chip shop. This was the start of my customer service career, though back then I couldn’t fry eggs and I only earned £1.50 an hour. Mum liked it more than me, as I brought her home endless supplies of free battered cod.
Age 15: Silver service waitress at a local hotel in Lincolnshire, England. Here I learned the dangers of getting trapped in large refrigerators, as well as how to balance potatoes between two spoons without dropping them in old women’s laps.
Age 16: Check out girl at Halfords – the local Bike and Car shop. I learned a lot about vehicles in this role, as well as how to use a till and sing songs over the tannoy.
Age 18: Bar girl in my local pub during university. Although my boyfriend was fired for allegedly giving free beer to his friends, I went on to do great things, especially when it came to loading the dishwasher without breaking anything.
Age 19: As well as working in the pub, I spent Saturday mornings during uni filling delicious baguettes in a local sandwich shop. Here I made friends with elderly locals and students alike, bringing joy to the hungry with every transaction.
Age 20: McDonalds shift worker. When my sandwich making duties were cut short I joined the Mc-team in Lincoln and was responsible for manning the cash register, putting things in bags and smiling a lot.
Age 21: Bar girl in Brooklyn, New York. When I graduated uni and moved to NYC I took a part time job as a waitress in a local bar. Here I was responsible for making and delivering drinks and food to the drunken American masses. On one occasion, a man fell through a glass table in front of me and tipped me $30 to say sorry. Fine by me.
Age 23: Jello shot girl, New York. This was a character-building experience that left me with a deeper understanding of men and what they really want when they go out to dinner in their business suits.
And that’s that. Let the employment offers roll in!