Last night work started out bad. You know how you just know you're going to have a bad night? That's how it started. And I know that goes against everything defined by the law of attraction, but I just knew. First of all I didn't get a thorough nap before going in. I wasn't actually too fatigued, but the mentality of starting a shift without a good amount of sleep before hand got me anxious. Second, I was running late. Everyone on this Island is on vacation, making Ocean Drive an obstacle course of spectators, peddlers, clubbers and restaurant tables. When I finally got to work I was tired and a bit disorientated. My designated section was slow, and then totally emptied out once it started raining. I kept getting heckled by this other waiter about how I need to be more aggressive. Now if there is one thing I am sure of about serving, it's that everyone has their one style and if that's what works for them, if that's what brings in the green, than there is no need to change. I am a more passive, but personal server. I don't jump on people when they first walk in and I don't rush them through their meal to create a fast turnover. I'd rather provide thorough service and hope for a good over tip. The bottom line: It works for me and I bring in the green. So it was annoying that he was trying to convince me I could do it better by doing it differently. By 2am I was tired, not really making much cash and hungry.
Notice, however, that I said things started out bad. Around 3am things started to turn around. My section picked up a bit and I was bringing in some serious over-tips (anything over the 15% already included in the bill). My trying-to-help-but-annoying colleague had backed off. When I don't get a chance to glance at the clock in the course of an hour, things are looking up. At about 6:45 my manager came up to me and asked how I was feeling. I told him I was okay, why? He asked if I wanted to get out of there. When it's getting close to 7am and everyone is getting hesitant about taking tables because they want to cash out and LEAVE, it's a good time to be called off. I cashed out and walked away with a buck fifty. No, not $1.50. $150.00 And that is after tipping out the bartender, food runner and busboy. So as frustrating as the night began, it turned out to be very fruitful.
When I walked out of News Cafe at just 7 O'clock. The sunrise was beautiful and the beach beckoned me. I knew I probably wouldn't make it to Church at 10:30am so I decided to take some time to meditate and relax now. The sunrise was amazing over the Ocean, but as I walked down the beach towards the water I witnessed the saddest thing I have ever seen. A man was picking through the garbage, nothing out of the ordinary around here. But for the first time I actually watched as this poor person found a discarded take-out box with leftover and without hesitation, bite into it. As he ate it I found that I couldn't stand to look anymore. I was heartbroken, devastated and just overwhelmingly sad. This was the first time I'd actually seen with my own eyes a human being eat out of the garbage. I sat there on the sand, the sun making the most beautiful Mosaic out of the clouds over the turquoise sea, and I realized how unbelievably lucky I am. Thing get hard, things get incredibly difficult at times. I've felt lost, lonely, angry, broke, and sometimes all at once. But never in my life have I been without hope. Never have I felt every option expired, every chance gone. So I took that experience, the beach, the sunrise, the warm, salty breeze, the beauty of it all contrasted by the devastation, and I tucked it away inside me to always fall back on. I have so much, no matter how bad my feet hurt, no matter how tired I can get at 4am, no matter how challenging things can get, I am such a blessed person, and I hope I never take that for granted.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Melancholy Mood
It's only 9pm here and I am exhausted. Completely and utterly wiped. There's techno music blasting all around me and an annoying little dog keeps licking my toes. Last night I worked my first graveyard shift, 11pm-7am. I didn't get home until about quarter of 8 this morning. I passed out until about 1:15 this afternoon, at which point I felt I should get up and make a day of it. I'm working on a couple of Christmas projects aright now which are very fulfilling and make me feel less lonely.
I guess that's what I've been feeling mostly. I'm happy and content with life down here on South Beach, but I'm lonely. I came down here to get away from what I had always known. To challenge myself in a way I never have before. I wanted to gain some clarity for myself and the life I want to pursue. I wanted to get to know myself a little better and become familiar with what made me tick. I guess when you grow up in a large family, some of that individual identity gets lost, or just develops a little slower. For me I felt that after about 16 years of following a system, having most of my decisions pre-determined, life all of a sudden was very unclear. College sort of takes in you in, tosses you all over the place and then spits you out. That is, in my opinion of course.
Moving down to South Beach has certainly helped me realize what I want, what I love, and what I want to spend my time doing. It has put so much truth behind the saying: Turns out not where, but who you're with that matters. I remember seeing that saying hanging up in Kurt and Danielle's first house. It's meaning was not as clear as it is to me now. I am 22 years old living in this whole new city, with all my friends and all the people I love somewhere else. There's nothing wrong with that of course. A lot of people venture out on their own and establish themselves someplace new quite successfully. But I do feel a void, a sense of lacking. I miss my friends. I miss the people I love so dearly who have gone through so much with me and all have their special places in my heart.
My plans at this point are to stay down here until the summer. At that point I'd like to move to Boston with a few friends who also going through some trial and error life decisions. I think Boston will offer me some wonderful job opportunities and eventually be the place I go back to school.
Anyways, this whole thing started because I'm tired and that clearly had an effect on the direction of this blog. I never know what these read like, because I hardly ever go back and read them. I don't really know if they make sense, if they make me seem crazy, depressed, happy, confused, self-assured. I guess I know how I feel and that's important. Right now I'm a little melancholy and looking foward to christmas. Looking foward to seeing everyone and being home for a while.
I guess that's what I've been feeling mostly. I'm happy and content with life down here on South Beach, but I'm lonely. I came down here to get away from what I had always known. To challenge myself in a way I never have before. I wanted to gain some clarity for myself and the life I want to pursue. I wanted to get to know myself a little better and become familiar with what made me tick. I guess when you grow up in a large family, some of that individual identity gets lost, or just develops a little slower. For me I felt that after about 16 years of following a system, having most of my decisions pre-determined, life all of a sudden was very unclear. College sort of takes in you in, tosses you all over the place and then spits you out. That is, in my opinion of course.
Moving down to South Beach has certainly helped me realize what I want, what I love, and what I want to spend my time doing. It has put so much truth behind the saying: Turns out not where, but who you're with that matters. I remember seeing that saying hanging up in Kurt and Danielle's first house. It's meaning was not as clear as it is to me now. I am 22 years old living in this whole new city, with all my friends and all the people I love somewhere else. There's nothing wrong with that of course. A lot of people venture out on their own and establish themselves someplace new quite successfully. But I do feel a void, a sense of lacking. I miss my friends. I miss the people I love so dearly who have gone through so much with me and all have their special places in my heart.
My plans at this point are to stay down here until the summer. At that point I'd like to move to Boston with a few friends who also going through some trial and error life decisions. I think Boston will offer me some wonderful job opportunities and eventually be the place I go back to school.
Anyways, this whole thing started because I'm tired and that clearly had an effect on the direction of this blog. I never know what these read like, because I hardly ever go back and read them. I don't really know if they make sense, if they make me seem crazy, depressed, happy, confused, self-assured. I guess I know how I feel and that's important. Right now I'm a little melancholy and looking foward to christmas. Looking foward to seeing everyone and being home for a while.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
What a week this has been. It's interesting to think how everyone else experienced these past few days, from all of our corners of the world. For me, this week was all about maintaining. Maintaining calm in the midst of chaos; maintaining sanity while adjusting to a demanding, exhausting schedule; mostly maintaining ME as I settle into this whole new routine filled with new faces, new responsibilities, new challenges. The only way to express the first few days of this is ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!! Let me explain:
Monday I had orientation for my new job. It was initially very relieving to show up and realize I'd be training with a small group of people in the same boat as me: new/rookie/graveyard. Getting to know these people on this basis was interesting. Discussing where we all come from, what brought us here, where we've been. Meeting new people is a very intriguing experience. Seeing how they react to the things that make me ME. Understanding the things that make them them. People are so vastly different, yet ultimately we have so much in common.
Tuesday was not so refreshing and enjoyable. Tuesday was hard, exhausting, long, and frustrating. We arrived at work at 9am dressed in uniform. I however had not yet gotten myself a tie and was wearing shoes I had from past restaurant experience and tried to ignore the fact that I knew they were uncomfortable. We were each assigned a trainer who at first I felt bad for, having to be trailed all day by a newbie, but then realized that we picked up a lot of slack for them and they actually had it pretty good. My first trainer's name was Rio. He seemed professional enough at first, but by 11:30am, after knowing me for about two hours, must have felt comfortable enough to let me know he thought I was very good looking and had nice legs. Wonderful. Rio was in the weeds pretty much all day so I took tables, delivered drinks, busted my butt for 6 straight hours without a break. I was practically limping by the time it was over, my feet hurt so bad. We had to stick around for cash-out just to see how it was done. Rio tipped me out $15.00, which I realized was pretty generous since none of my other trainers tipped me out at all. I didn't get out of work until well past 4pm, my pinkie toes felt as if they'd fallen off, I was absolutely starving, but didn't know if I was going to be able to stay conscious long enough to eat. And in the back of my head I knew that this was only the beginning. When I got home monday afternoon Roxx didn't realize what he had coming to him. My montstrous mood only worsened when I realize that he had eaten HALF of the delicous bread emily sent me only the day before. On top of that he had his music blasting and didn't get the hint that I was not in a talking OR listening mood, even after I'd snapped at him about the bread. For the first time in our month as roommates, Roxx saw the mean side of Darci.
Wednesday wasn't much better. My trainer's name was Dominic and he also felt it necessary and nothing out of the ordinary to express his thoughts about my looks. My practice in things like this isn't very good so I just ignored it. Unfortunately this guy smokes like a chimney and wednesday's training consisted mostly of familiarizing myself with the break room/alley. After a grueling 7 hours on the floor Dominic shook my hand and told me I'd done well. Wonderful. More than a few people had to deal with the brunt of my bad mood this day as I felt it necessary to make calls and explain to them my situation.
Thursday Michael, wonderful, old, New York born Michael. Not one flattering comment, not one cigarette break, just old-fashion this-is-how-we-do it training. Still an exhausting, pennieless day, but the best out of all week. By Thursday I'd realized that before I made any calls I should first get off my feet for a bit, eat something and then think about communicating with people.
Food-runner Friday. This was a change of pace, but did nothing good for my 1 o'clock hunger pains. One other trainee and I were in the kitchen running food all day. The kitchen is absolute CHAOS at this place. Huge and like a little South American country in itself. I'm not sure how many things were said about me, but since I couldn't understand any of them it was fine with me. The purpose of food running is to familiarize us with the plate presentation, and also the layout of the restaurant. This place is HUGE though, and for the first few runs I thought I needed a GPS device to figure out where the hell the table was that matched the number on the greasy slip I was holding. Eventually I got the hang of it, and the fact that I didn't have to wait an extra hour or so for transfer of tables and cashing out kept me going. However, as my fellow food-running trainee Camilo and I were gleefully escaping at 3pm on the dot, we were stopped and reminded we had a menu review session. It was also about this time when I got the news about Grandma Tretter. The review session was sort of a blur, my mind obviously distracted. I didn't even realize until we were released only 20 minutes later, that our manager had decided to let us take a copy of the test home instead of actually reviewing the material. He clearly had other things on his mind as well.
Walking home I tried to get a hold on how I felt. The combination of pure exhaustion mixed with an unfamiliar, almost numbing emotion of sadness. My heart went out to dad. I was totally oblivious to the tourists snapping pictures, the vacationers gleefully taking in famous Deco Drive. My mind was somewhere in the past, reminscing on some glimpse of a memory I have about a dinner one night with Grandma Tretter present at our house. A story she was telling about her first job. I didn't recall much, but I remember how impressed I was with whatever she'd been talking about. And it is in this way I'll always remember her.
So that is what this week was like for me, from this corner of the world. I'm tired from just going back through it all. If you made it to this point, I applaud you. I'm sure I'm leaving things out that popped into my head with "gotta get that in the blog." Either way, you know where I've been. Monday begins my actually graveyard shift. I work Thursday through Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday will be dedicated to rest and reclaiming of sanity.
Today is December 1st! Happy Holidays!
Monday I had orientation for my new job. It was initially very relieving to show up and realize I'd be training with a small group of people in the same boat as me: new/rookie/graveyard. Getting to know these people on this basis was interesting. Discussing where we all come from, what brought us here, where we've been. Meeting new people is a very intriguing experience. Seeing how they react to the things that make me ME. Understanding the things that make them them. People are so vastly different, yet ultimately we have so much in common.
Tuesday was not so refreshing and enjoyable. Tuesday was hard, exhausting, long, and frustrating. We arrived at work at 9am dressed in uniform. I however had not yet gotten myself a tie and was wearing shoes I had from past restaurant experience and tried to ignore the fact that I knew they were uncomfortable. We were each assigned a trainer who at first I felt bad for, having to be trailed all day by a newbie, but then realized that we picked up a lot of slack for them and they actually had it pretty good. My first trainer's name was Rio. He seemed professional enough at first, but by 11:30am, after knowing me for about two hours, must have felt comfortable enough to let me know he thought I was very good looking and had nice legs. Wonderful. Rio was in the weeds pretty much all day so I took tables, delivered drinks, busted my butt for 6 straight hours without a break. I was practically limping by the time it was over, my feet hurt so bad. We had to stick around for cash-out just to see how it was done. Rio tipped me out $15.00, which I realized was pretty generous since none of my other trainers tipped me out at all. I didn't get out of work until well past 4pm, my pinkie toes felt as if they'd fallen off, I was absolutely starving, but didn't know if I was going to be able to stay conscious long enough to eat. And in the back of my head I knew that this was only the beginning. When I got home monday afternoon Roxx didn't realize what he had coming to him. My montstrous mood only worsened when I realize that he had eaten HALF of the delicous bread emily sent me only the day before. On top of that he had his music blasting and didn't get the hint that I was not in a talking OR listening mood, even after I'd snapped at him about the bread. For the first time in our month as roommates, Roxx saw the mean side of Darci.
Wednesday wasn't much better. My trainer's name was Dominic and he also felt it necessary and nothing out of the ordinary to express his thoughts about my looks. My practice in things like this isn't very good so I just ignored it. Unfortunately this guy smokes like a chimney and wednesday's training consisted mostly of familiarizing myself with the break room/alley. After a grueling 7 hours on the floor Dominic shook my hand and told me I'd done well. Wonderful. More than a few people had to deal with the brunt of my bad mood this day as I felt it necessary to make calls and explain to them my situation.
Thursday Michael, wonderful, old, New York born Michael. Not one flattering comment, not one cigarette break, just old-fashion this-is-how-we-do it training. Still an exhausting, pennieless day, but the best out of all week. By Thursday I'd realized that before I made any calls I should first get off my feet for a bit, eat something and then think about communicating with people.
Food-runner Friday. This was a change of pace, but did nothing good for my 1 o'clock hunger pains. One other trainee and I were in the kitchen running food all day. The kitchen is absolute CHAOS at this place. Huge and like a little South American country in itself. I'm not sure how many things were said about me, but since I couldn't understand any of them it was fine with me. The purpose of food running is to familiarize us with the plate presentation, and also the layout of the restaurant. This place is HUGE though, and for the first few runs I thought I needed a GPS device to figure out where the hell the table was that matched the number on the greasy slip I was holding. Eventually I got the hang of it, and the fact that I didn't have to wait an extra hour or so for transfer of tables and cashing out kept me going. However, as my fellow food-running trainee Camilo and I were gleefully escaping at 3pm on the dot, we were stopped and reminded we had a menu review session. It was also about this time when I got the news about Grandma Tretter. The review session was sort of a blur, my mind obviously distracted. I didn't even realize until we were released only 20 minutes later, that our manager had decided to let us take a copy of the test home instead of actually reviewing the material. He clearly had other things on his mind as well.
Walking home I tried to get a hold on how I felt. The combination of pure exhaustion mixed with an unfamiliar, almost numbing emotion of sadness. My heart went out to dad. I was totally oblivious to the tourists snapping pictures, the vacationers gleefully taking in famous Deco Drive. My mind was somewhere in the past, reminscing on some glimpse of a memory I have about a dinner one night with Grandma Tretter present at our house. A story she was telling about her first job. I didn't recall much, but I remember how impressed I was with whatever she'd been talking about. And it is in this way I'll always remember her.
So that is what this week was like for me, from this corner of the world. I'm tired from just going back through it all. If you made it to this point, I applaud you. I'm sure I'm leaving things out that popped into my head with "gotta get that in the blog." Either way, you know where I've been. Monday begins my actually graveyard shift. I work Thursday through Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday will be dedicated to rest and reclaiming of sanity.
Today is December 1st! Happy Holidays!
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