I've just spent way too many hours reading the archives of my new favorite blog, Waiter Rant. The author is a perfectly snarky veteran New York City waiter, in the process of finishing his first book based entirely on his waiting experiences. I have to say his writing hits really close to home for me, and for the past few hours I've been swimming in uncomfortable memories from my table-waiting and hostessing days. It's been quite some time since I though about my very first day waiting tables for the all-you-can-eat Sunday brunch fatties at my aunt's old restaurant in Gastonia, NC, right after which I called my mom and cried for half an hour.
Yet I just can't stop reading. It's masochism, really. I've always maintained that every single person should try their hand at a customer service job, only if for just a day. It'll change your whole view on consumerism, manners and the public in general.
Speaking of which, I've been thinking about getting a part-time job hostessing or waiting tables again, as (big news!) I've secured my place in the spring entry date for the Culinary Arts Diploma at Oregon Culinary Institute. I'm really, ridiculously excited about it because I've been toying with the idea for much too long and I figure that three years from now, I'd be thinking 'Why didn't I go three years ago when it was perfect timing and I had the chance?' There are benefits to having no mortgage, pets, significant other or car payment after all. And besides, despite the drippy weather and overcast skies I'm kind of in love with Portland at the moment. It's nice.
A glass of Oregon's own Adelsheim Rose at the delicious Clyde Common