Mallory Rogers

All in a Day’s Work

“I’ll have tea; she’ll have a Coke, and hurry up—last time we got horrible service here.”            

Great, I thought to myself as my never-ending shift at the restaurant, which was putting me through graduate school, dragged on and on. Another set of customers who think that just because I wear this starched shirt, ugly tie, and stupid apron means that somewhere underneath there I’m not a person or something, someone worth a little kindness, a little appreciation.  Oh well, an hour and they’ll be gone, I thought to myself as I filled the cheap green glasses that crack whenever you fill them with soda because the dishwasher guy is to lazy to stack them the right way, with the hot cups on the bottom. Six months. Six months and I will be out of this dump, with three degrees under my belt and hopefully a fantastic job making a lot more money than I ever did on a good night here!

 As I made my way back to the table I secretly wished that the cocktail tray I was balancing with the “tea and Coke in a jiffy” would tip over into Mr. Grouch, the regular’s, lap.  Hey, he’s a jerk anyway!  It made me smile though, to know that the only reason that wouldn’t happen is because I’ve been parading around with that little tray for three years now, and hadn’t even did it accidentally.  I’m good at my job and good at ignoring pompous… well you can guess where this is going.

  “Are ya’ll ready to order now?”

 “Been ready since yesterday,” he answered.  

Wonderful!  This was the same song, different tune, at least three times a shift, each night.  Why was I resorting to these horrible conditions, you may be wondering, if it was all so bad?  Well, I’ve been thinking about that too.  One hundred plus dollars a night, that’s why!  Waiting tables pays the bills, puts food on the table, and gives me the means to live life the way I like—in style.

 New shoes, designer purses, and expensive makeup, my three loves.  Oh yeah, and the cute waiter that I’d had my eye on ever since day one of training didn’t seem so bad either.  When he’d come around, every time without fail, it seemed like I just turned into a blubbering idiot.  He was that guy that all of the girls wanted; he was tall at about 6’3”, he has a football player’s body that is strong and muscular, and he has green eyes that you could easily get lost in over and over again.  Ronny is that guy that you’d see with three girls surrounding him at all times, each vying for their turn to see if they could win him over. “Hi, Ronny!” “Bye, Ronny!”  “Call me later, Ronny!”  Seriously, it was some weird scene out of the movies, girls throwing themselves at a guy who loved every minute of the attention.  I decided very early on that I wouldn’t become one of “them”, I’d never been one of “them,” and I wasn’t going to start now.  Or at least I hoped I wouldn’t. 

When you work at a restaurant, more often than not those people become not only your new friends; they become your only friends.  They work the same crazy hours and they go through the same things and deal with the same types of people you do at work.  They understand and they’re compassionate.

 “Party at the beach tonight, you in?” my newest best girlfriend asked interrupting my daydreaming and snapping me back to reality.

 “Eh… I have a wine test in the morning, mandatory ongoing training sucks.”

 “We’ll help you study on the way—I took my test last week, just come, it’ll be fun, plus, Ronny is going to be there. So pick you up at eleven?”

 I sighed and threw my head back. She had hooked me with that last line and I knew it, damn her.

 “Okay, why not, see you then,” I told her.

 That last table was taking what seemed like an eternity to scrap their leftovers into the doggy bags.  Then, when I thought they were finally done and packed up, they actually had the nerve to ask for another bottle of wine! 

“Sure, I’ll get that for you,” I responded in my best impression of not-being-annoyed voice. They just had to have that third bottle of wine! Didn’t they know I had somewhere to be?       “There they go again, those customers ruining everything” I told the manager as she laughed and collected that night’s loot.

 “See you tomorrow.”

  I clocked out in a hurry and as I walked out the door towards my car I looked at my time card and saw the time I punched out. What, seriously, I thought as I stopped to double check my watch.  I got off work at 10:20, even though we closed at nine.  Ugh… that isn’t good.  I had about twenty-five minutes to go home and get ready for the group outing that night.  What can you do in twenty-five minutes?  Not a lot, that’s for sure.  Okay, most important first, I rationalized in my head as I caught what seemed like every red light on the ten-minute journey home.  To make matters worse, I had managed to get behind the snail of the neighborhood, Mrs. Ortega, as soon as I entered the one-lane road that leads to my house. I swear that woman acts like it’s a school zone wherever she’s going.   Great, I wonder why she doesn’t just speed up, I whimpered as I wondered if this was karma for wishing my tray to fall on the jerk from earlier in the night.  No, can’t be, that just seems to be the story of my life I decided.   I wished I had longer than fifteen minutes so that I could shower, but those girls are impatient, they’d never wait for all of that.  So I prioritized. Brush teeth, change clothes, freshen up makeup, I chose.  One, two, three, ready! As I spritzed my new Michael Kors perfume on my neck and wrists I heard three quick honks. 

Guess who!  Brandi, Maryann, and Michelle picked me up at precisely eleven in Brandi’s shiny, white Explorer.  She had the biggest car; therefore we made her our honorary chauffeur to each event we attended. I doubt she minds; she says she loves to drive anyway. Hey, less responsibility for me! I had my flashcards though, in true “me” style, to study for the upcoming beverage test at least on the way there.

“It’s a smooth red wine with oak flavors that will go well with any cut of meat on the menu,” I answered as Maryann asked about the new Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon.      “Perfect!” she raved.

 After about six triumphant responses along the same lines I had decided that I had done enough studying and now I was preparing to have fun!  I tucked my note cards away, out of sight and out of mind. 

The entire “restaurant” gang frequented that same spot on the beach at least a couple of times a month.  It was always the same group of people and more and more joined with each new training session at work.   People stayed hanging out into the wee hours of the nights.  Tonight though, the group decided that everyone would bring tents, barbeque pits, volleyball nets, and marshmallows.  We were going to be making a night of it.  So there we were, on the beach, with ten blue K-Mart special tents hopefully secured well enough to the ground to not fly away in the middle of the night.  The girls and I decided that we needed a fire to set the beach mood.  We gathered or rather begged, people to help us roam around looking for sticks and pieces of wood to use for the fire.  We paired off and I ended up with you guessed it, everyone’s favorite wood-hunting buddy—Ronny. 

Remember what I said earlier about the blubbering idiot? Well, it was back.  After about two whole minutes of silence I finally broke the ice.

  “So, how’s the morning shift treating you?”  I managed to finally sputter.

 “Can’t complain, the night?” he answered.

 “Decent, I still work there,” I joked.

 He laughed and I applauded in my head.  Silence, again.

 “So, how’s what’s his name, Scott?”

 Scott was the manager where we worked, so he wasn’t allowed at the outings because of employee-manager rules.  Everyone already knew about our relationship, though, and the problems we were having too, but they just turned the other way.  I hesitated trying to think of something clever to say as Ronny waited for a dignified response to his question.

“Oh. He’s doing his thing and I’m doing mine.” 

Well, it was partly true.  I decided I was finally tired of Scott’s immaturity and all of his lying, but Scott still thought that he had a chance.  I’m done with him though.  I’m looking for a better catch and I have my eye on him right now. 

Our conversation continued through the scavenger hunt the next thirty minutes.  When we came back, we were greeted by the other groups.  I guess we had lost track of time.  We added our wood to the stack and took a seat, next to each other to continue our conversation.  We had never really talked before.  I thought he was cute but he seemed to come along with a lot of baggage in the form of admirers.  Oh well, give it a chance, I reassured myself.  We ended up talking throughout the entire night. 

We just never ran out of things to say.  It was that kind of night where you sit and talk about anything and everything.  There was nothing off limits.  Before we even realized what was going on, everyone around us had already bunked in the tents. It was just him and me.  As Ronny and I searched for an empty space to finally call it a night, we came to the realization that there were two spots and coincidentally they were in the same tent.  That’s just luck, I’d say.  I’d been doing so well.  The blubbering idiot had morphed itself into a calm, relaxed personality.  We kept talking until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. 

I was sleeping so well! Usually I tossed and turned but tonight I slept better than I had all month.  It didn’t even matter that we were outside at the beach lying on the grainy, hard sand.  I say sand because the sleeping bag I brought was as thin as paper!  When I finally opened my eyes in the morning, it was because I had been awakened by an abrupt noise that kept returning every few seconds.  I knew it was pretty late though, because the sun was shining through the cracks of the tent making it impossible to roll over and go back to bed.

 To my right was Ronny, sweet Ronny.  But, he was snoring, loudly!  If there’s one thing I can’t stand in the world, it’s a snorer.  They’re loud, annoying, and I already sleep lightly.  This would never work, I thought, shaking my head.  He seemed so perfect.  Ugh.  What a waste—I should have known better.  I pictured myself and Ronny twenty years down the road.  I looked the same, of course, but Ronny—well that’s another story!  He had grown into a Budweiser hat wearing, mullet sporting couch potato.  Ugh, that’s not good, I said under my breath as I gathered up my sleeping bag I was careful not to wake the Giant from Jack in the Beanstalk.  I took one last glance and unzipped the door to the quiet, peaceful outside.  As I got out, the sun was bright and shining.  I grimaced and covered my eyes half way for a while and then rubbing them to wake up. I glanced around and didn’t like what I saw.  There were no blue tents surrounding ours, no bar-b-que pit, and no volleyball net.  What?! Are you kidding me?  Where did everybody go?  There weren’t any cars in the parking area, which you could see in the distance, except for Ronny’s blue Chevrolet pickup. I heard Ronny rustling around and hoped he wouldn’t pop his head out of the tent, wondering where I was.

 I called Maryann.

**REVISION NOTES**

Writing is something that I enjoy to do, but whenever it came down to creating something to share with the class I was stumped and felt writer’s block.  So, I sat down with paper and I thought about what I already was familiar with that I could make a good story.  People always ask how my fiancé and I met and it’s an overall interesting and amusing story.  I began to think about the events that led up to our first “date” and decided that I wanted to do something that was loosely based on our story.  Plus, I figured it would be nice for him to have because he probably doesn’t remember as much as I do about it.  The story just kind our poured itself onto the paper throughout the course of a couple of days but seemed to be taking on the direction of a sappy love story.  I knew that no one, including myself, wanted to read yet another meet, fall in love, and happily ever after tale—so I changed it to where things didn’t work out between us.  The product I shared with the class during workshop I felt was okay, but it needed definite cleaning up and some tying of the loose ends.

During workshop, I got a lot of good feedback from my peers.  They had picked up on things that could be easily added or changed to make it work better.  Overall, the theme of the paper went well and the tone, too, but while editing with the ‘track changes’ button on, I realized that I had chopped up my story more than I thought it needed. 

As far as feedback, there were a lot of comments about separating the speakers from the rest of the story and also about keeping the quotations consistent.  Agreeing with everyone, I went through and made the changes and turned my paper from a five pager to seven.  Next, was that the title needed to be changed to something more original.  I got a few suggestions from classmates and decided to go with “All in a Day’s Work,” instead of “Moving Up.”  Everyone also wanted to know more about Ronny’s appearance, so I added some descriptive features to help give a better impression of what he looked like.  Scott, too, was vague and the readers wanted to know who he was and where he came from, so I added that in also.  Finally, the ending was to sudden for many of the editors, therefore I tried to work more with summing up what happened between Ronny and I and ended up going back to the wine test that was mentioned a couple of times earlier in the story but was never returned to.

**ORIGINAL DRAFT**

Moving Up

“I’ll have tea; she’ll have a Coke, and hurry up, last time we got horrible service here.”  “Great!” I thought to myself as my never ending shift at the restaurant, which was putting me through graduate school, dragged on and on. Another set of customers that think that just because I wear this starched shirt, ugly tie, and stupid apron means that somewhere underneath there I’m not a person or something, someone worth a little kindness, a little appreciation.  “Oh well, an hour and they’ll be gone”, I thought to myself as I filled the cheap green glasses that crack whenever you fill them with soda because the dishwasher guy is to lazy to stack them the right way, with the hot cups on the bottom. Six months. Six months and I will be out of this dump, with three degrees under my belt and hopefully a fantastic job making a lot more money than I ever did on a good night here!

 As I made my way back to the table I secretly wished that the cocktail tray I was balancing with the “tea and Coke in a jiffy” would tip over into Mr. Grouch’s lap.  Hey, he’s a jerk anyway!  It made me smile though, to know that the only reason that wouldn’t happen is because I’ve been parading around with that little tray for three years now, and hadn’t even done it accidentally.  I’m good at my job and good at ignoring pompous… well can guess where this is going.   “Are ya’ll ready to order now?”  “Been ready since yesterday”, he answered.   Wonderful!  This was the same song, different tune at least three times a shift, each night.  Why was I resorting to these horrible conditions you may be wondering if it was all so bad?  Well, I’ve been thinking about that too.  One hundred plus dollars a night, that’s why!  Waiting tables pays the bills, puts food on the table, and gives me the means to live life the way I like—in style.

 New shoes, designer purses, and expensive makeup, my three loves.  Oh yeah, and the cute waiter that I’d had my eye on ever since day one of training didn’t seem so bad either.  When he’d come around it seemed like I just turned into a blubbering idiot, every time without fail.  He was that guy that all of the girls wanted.  That guy that you’d see with three girls surrounding him at all times, each vying for their turn to see if they could win him over. “Hi Ronny!” “Bye Ronny!”  “Call me later, Ronny!”  Seriously, it was some weird scene out of the movies, girls throwing themselves on a guy who loved every minute of the attention.  I decided very early on that I wouldn’t become one of “them.”  I’d never been one of “them” and I wasn’t going to start now.  Or at least I hoped I wouldn’t. 

When you work at a restaurant, more often than not those people become not only your new friends; they become you’re only friends.  They work the same crazy hours and they go through the same things and deal with the same types of people you do at work.  They understand and they’re compassionate. “Party at the beach tonight, you in?” my newest best girlfriend asked interrupting my daydreaming and snapping me back to reality.  “Eh… I have a wine test in the morning, mandatory ongoing training sucks.”  “We’ll help you study on the way—I took my test last week, just come it’ll be fun.  Plus, Ronny is going to be there. So pick you up at eleven?”  I sighed and threw my head back. She had hooked me with that last line and I knew it, damn her.  “Okay, why not, see ya then” I told her.

 That last table was taking what seemed like an eternity to scrap their leftovers into the doggy bags.  Then, when I thought they were finally done and packed up they actually had the nerve to ask for another bottle of wine!  “Sure, I’ll get that for you” I responded in my best impression of not being annoyed voice. They just had to have that third bottle of wine! Didn’t they know I had somewhere to be?  “There they go again, those customers ruining everything” I told the manager as she laughed and collected that night’s loot. “See ya tomorrow.”   I clocked out in a hurry and as I walked out the door towards my car I looked at my time card and saw the time I punched out. “What, seriously?” I thought as I stopped to double check my watch.  I got off work at 10:20, even though we closed at nine.  “Ugh… that isn’t good.”  I had about twenty five minutes to go home and get ready for the group outing that night.  What can you do in twenty five minutes?  Not a lot, that’s for sure.  “Okay, most important first”, I rationalized in my head as I caught what seemed like every red light on the ten minute journey home.  To make matters worse, I had managed to get behind the snail of the neighborhood, Mrs. Ortega, as soon as I entered the sole one lane road that leads to my house.  “Great” I whimpered as I wondered if this was Karma for wishing my tray to fall on the jerk from earlier in the night.  No, can’t be, that just seems to be the story of my life I decided.   I wished I had longer than fifteen minutes so that I could shower, but those girls are impatient, they’d never wait for all of that.  So I prioritized. “Brush teeth, change clothes, freshen up makeup” I chose.  One, two, three, ready! As I spritzed my new Michael Kors perfume on my neck and wrists I heard three quick honks. 

Guess who!  Brandi, Maryann, and Michelle picked me up at precisely eleven in Brandi’s shiny, white Explorer.  She had the biggest car therefore we made her our honorary chauffer to each event we attended. I doubt she minds; she says she loves to drive anyway. Hey, less responsibility for me! I had my flashcards though, in true “me” style, to study for the upcoming menu test at least on the way there.  “It’s a smooth red wine with oak flavors that will go well with any cut of meat on the menu”, I answered as Maryann asked about the new Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon.  “Perfect!” she raved.  After about six triumphant responses along the same lines I had decided that I had done enough studying and now I was preparing to have fun!  I tucked my note cards away, out of sight and out of mind.  “So where are we going, exactly?” I wondered out loud.  “The Beach!” the three answered in unison.  I guess everyone knew but me. 

The entire “restaurant” gang frequented that spot at least a couple of times a month.  It was always the same group of people and more and more joined with each new training session at work.   People stayed hanging out into the wee hours of the nights.  Tonight though, the group decided that everyone would bring tents, barbeque pits, volleyball nets, and marshmellows.  We were going to be making a night of it.  So there we were, on the beach, with ten blue K-Mart special tents hopefully secured well enough to the ground to not fly away in the middle of the night.  The girls and I decided that we needed a fire to set the beach mood.  We gathered or rather begged, people to help us roam around looking for sticks and pieces of wood to use for the fire.  We paired off and I ended up with you guessed it, everyone’s favorite wood-hunting buddy, Ronny. 

Remember what I said earlier about the blubbering idiot? Well, it was back.  After about two whole minutes of silence I finally broke the ice.  “So, how’s the morning shift treatin’ ya?”  I managed to finally sputter.  “Can’t complain, the night?” he answered. “Decent, I still work there,” I joked.  He laughed and I applauded in my head.  Silence, again.  “So, how’s what’s-his-name, Scott?”  “Oh. He’s doing his thing and I’m doing mine.”  Well, it was part true.  I decided I was finally tired of Scott’s immaturity but Scott still thought that he had a chance.  I’m done with him though.  I’m looking for a better catch.  And, I have my eye on it right now.  Our conversation continued through the scavenger hunt the next thirty minutes.  When we came back, we were greeted by the other groups.  I guess we had lost track of time.  We added our wood to the stack and took a seat, next to each other to continue our conversation.  We had never really talked before.  I thought he was cute but he seemed to come along with a lot of baggage in the form of admirers.  “Oh well, give it a chance” I reassured myself.  We ended up talking throughout the entire night. 

We just never ran out of things to say.  It was that kind of night where you sit and talk about anything and everything.  There was nothing off limits.  Before we even realized what was going on, everyone around us had already bunked in the tents. It was just him and me.  As Ronny and I searched for an empty space to finally call it a night, we came to the realization that there were two spots and coincidentally they were in the same tent.  That’s just luck, I’d say.  I’d been doing so well.  The blubbering idiot had morphed itself into a calm, relaxed personality.  We kept talking until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. 

I was sleeping so well! Usually I tossed and turned but tonight I slept like a log.  It didn’t even matter that we were outside at the beach lying on the hard sand.  I say sand because the sleeping bag I brought was as thin as paper!  When I finally opened my eyes in the morning, I knew it was pretty late.  The sun was shining through the cracks of the tent making impossible to roll over and go back to bed.  To my right was Ronny, sweet Ronny.  But, he was snoring, loudly!  If there’s one thing I can’t stand in the world, it’s a snorer.  They’re loud, annoying, and I already sleep lightly.  “This would never work” I thought, shaking my head.  He seemed so perfect.  Ugh.  What a waste—I should have known better.  As I gathered up my sleeping bag I was careful not to wake the Giant from Jack in the Beanstalk.  I took one last glance and unzipped the door to the quiet, peaceful outside.  As I got out, the sun was bright and shining.  I grimaced and covered my eyes half way for a while and then rubbing them to wake up. I glanced around and didn’t like what I saw.  There were no blue tents surrounding ours, no pit, and no net.  What?! Are you kidding me?  Where did everybody go?  There weren’t any cars in the parking lot which you could see in the instance.  I called Maryann.  “Hey, no need to thank me” she shrieked, answering the phone. I was confused.  She told me how she got everyone up early and everyone left so that Ronny and I could spend “quality” time together.