Empty Promises

I made myself a promise when I graduated from college. That promise was that I would never work in a restaurant again.

While scrapping my financial way through college, I worked in a few food joints. The first was Woody's Wood Fired Pizza. I worked at one in Denver and one in Fort Collins. The Denver joint scared me because I was working with people who were probably addicted to meth. One day, a Metallica song came on the jukebox, and in my metal naivete, I said something along the lines of "God, this song makes me want to DIE" and I was then verbally crucified by the entire staff for a) not knowing it was Metallica, and b) my outspoken lack of space in my musical taste for a band like Metallica. In retaliation, I put five dollars in the jukebox and played every Phil Collins song on the jukebox. I won. Kind of.

The Fort Collins Woody's wasnt that bad. There were a lot of fun girls/guys to hang around with on my shift. We would have dress themes for our shift like cowgirl or hungover that would annoy the crap out of my awesome manager Big Dan, but he'd just shrug his shoulders and deal. I once told some asshole that he didnt need to tip me and I further explained that he was being a total douche. Big Dan totally stood behind me and told the guy to never come back. That's the kind of manager you want on your side. However, Woody's was kind of a shitshow in that somedays I'd walk away with $60 and other days I'd walk away with $6.

The last restaurant job I worked was at the Sundance Steakhouse and Saloon. It boasts an enormous dance floor, a stage filled with some sort of country-western band, ridiculous drink specials, a free shuttle back into town, and a shitload of people to make fun of on a pretty constant level. This was by far my favorite place because the people-watching was out of control, and I really, really liked the staff that I worked with. (Except for the guy who called himself Wilderness that worked in the kitchen. About one month after I quit the Sundance, I came across his picture on the Registered Sex Offenders website, and I applauded my gut instinct for being terrified of the dude.) The only problem with working at the Sundance is that it was my fave place in college to get absolutely beligerent with my friends, and working at the saloon put me in the position of watching all my friends get belig while I sat on the sidelines. This job lasted approximately three months, and I was back on track with my drinking habits and catching up with lost sleep from shifts that ended at 2:30am.

Where is all this going? Well. This economy has a strong chokehold on the job market. I'm competing with people who have ten yrs of experience for jobs making $32k. And I just had my first interview. For a position. As a cocktail waitress at a comedy club. Now, a comedy club isnt exactly a restaurant and this one is pretty sweet, but waitressing. Waitressing again.

On one hand, I'm pretty impressed that I scored an interview this early in the game. On the other hand, well, in the other hand, I think I need a stiff drink. Vodka, preferably.