NY ♥ NY

Friday night marked my first experience as a cocktail waitress at Sea. Though I spent all last summer as a waitress at PJ’s Pancake House, I had never served anything but pancakes, eggs, and burgers before (yup, gained weight at that job). I was told that I’d be training my first night, after which I was planning on turning down the job, because I barely have free time as it is. However, “training” didn’t mean actual training so much as it meant full cocktail waitressing – i.e. serving alcohol on my own and keeping all my tips. Okay, so I made serious bank and the work wasn’t so bad. And I have the security of knowing a big, buff guy named Israel is watching to make sure I’m not being harassed by any creepy or overly-friendly dudes.

Considering my other job as an NYU tour guide, I’m generally comfortable with talking and meeting strangers. In terms of joking and bantering with the customers, I don’t have to struggle with language barriers in the same way as the other employees (many of whom were born in Thailand). And while I didn’t make any mistakes with drink orders, I still have to develop my own rhythm. One woman was incredibly mean to me at the very end of what had, until then, been a great first shift. I ran out of small bills to give change to her boyfriend and I got really flustered as she increasingly expressed her impatience. I nervously explained that sorry, it was my first night, expecting the excuse to elicit the usual response – genuine support and patience – “Really? You’re doing really well. Take your time, etc.” But no, she haughtily responded with, “Well you can really tell.” Which only made me more flustered and shaky and unable to count the correct change. She then had the nerve to walk up to my manager (who was behind me) and tell him, “This girl can’t count, blahblahbitchbitch.” Her boyfriend was nice and told me to take my time, though at that point I couldn’t help but start to cry. My manager consoled me and told me that I was doing fine, that she was just cranky. My response: “She’s so meannnn.” Yeah, it still really bothered me because I’m the kind of person who takes strangers’ hurtful remarks personally.

This is what I’ve learned: People will spend an exorbitant amount of money on alcohol. They will tip incredibly well if I tolerate their lame come-ons and humor their requests that I “don’t be a stranger.” They will then ask my boyfriend’s name. Oh, and sometimes they will be mean.

Yup, that's me.