So This is How We Do It?

"Wanna play?" Kyle asked, sensing the interest I had in the blackjack game that was passing the time as we stood around a tray on a tray jack in the kitchen as the doors opened without customers. "Hell yeah, I have quarters," I answered, reaching in my pocket for a portion of the pittance I've been hording. Cheap fun! And somehow, in this wild parallel universe I've mistakenly planted myself in, I felt at ease with these two twenty-something young men who each had a turn training me when I took this job six weeks ago. Not only was it an easy camaraderie, it felt good, really good, to be standing with these guys, playing a card game for quarters.

I've been a stressed out loner these last weeks. Feeling like I belonged, was one of the gang for a few minutes, was a healing experience today in an otherwise complicated and messy life. Thank God for a cheap trip to the mechanic. Thank God for a few moments of feeling like maybe I am likeable. And thank God one more day of this current hell is over. At least there were a few blessings to be found.

Talking to a friend yesterday, she told me that my ability to make enough money to pay my bills never crossed her mind, never entered any equation either of us thought might be hard about this move for me. But it has become the overwhelming factor that chokes me every moment of every day while I struggle through another minimally-sat section at not one, but two restaurants now. So, that's two strikes, right? Friends and family assure me (daily) that I'll be okay, that this is just a phase, that things will even out. Yes, they probably will. Let's face it, at this point, it can't get much worse. There's still an underlying doubt that ping-pongs itself every minute of every day in my mind. Have I lost my ability to make an educated judgment about a restaurant's ability to make money? Am I so stupid (or old??) that I can't grasp what I should be doing to save myself from this quandary I've engulfed myself in, albeit unintentionally? Unintentionally. Ha. Who would intentionally position herself into two consecutive jobs that cannot sustain her modest lifestyle? And this is the crux of the matter: What the hell am I doing? Am I too old? Am I too cocky with 25 years experience? Do I not understand you have to start at the bottom?

No. I don't know anybody in the restaurant business who would be happy with $8-10 an hour average in nice restaurants. I've chosen nice places; really, I have. And still, I've chosen unwisely. One place gives managers sections (with booths!) while I earn a whole four tables (no booths) for my lunch shift efforts. The manager, of course, shows up from the office with an apron on at straight up noon after the opening duties have been finished, then disappears without doing any of the after lunch side work. Of course. I was promised a certain amount each week when I explained my current situation and the need for more customers...more money. Four shifts this week haven't touched a third of that. And managers are getting better sections than me. Say hello to my little friend Murphy.

To say that I am disappointed and frustrated wouldn't quite do my emotions the justice they deserve. I have a valid fear. I have bills to make. Count among my blessings the great manager at my first mistake (which is actually better than my second mistake) who is willing to give me my hours back. Uh-huh. I knew not burning bridges was a good choice. And it proves that I still have a shred of intelligence buried somewhere and left intact. Even so, maybe it's time for me to suck it up and find that 9-5 job that doesn't have the Russian Roulette factor where you never know what you'll make.

I don't have any answers these days. All I can do is be thankful for a car that still runs and doesn't seem to be in imminent danger of leaving me stranded. Find some glory in shagging a couple of wannabe's out of a few bucks in quarters. Let there be joy in the arriving home to a place whose rent is paid for at least this month. What lies ahead is a mystery. Gifts come from nowhere.

A friend trying to cheer me up said this: "I am so sorry for your bad luck on your jobs, but for some reason I think there is music in the air! No not the concerts in Oshkosh, but a special position coming up. You'll know when you hear it."

Please let it be so!