I ended my last post with the promise to write a longer update the following day and here I sit, nearly a week later, breathless from the whirl of long nights and late mornings that just occurred. This new job reminds me of a certain Fourth of July celebration of my youth. I was standing on the dock at Lake Meridian with my best friend Jennifer and her dog. One second I was looking up at the sky, marveling at the colors and smoke, and the next second, with one tiny shift of weight in the wrong direction and a quiet splash, I found myself submerged in the murky waters flailing around and searching for the surface. And like that surprise swim on a night filled with barbecue hot dogs, Capture the Flag, and sparklers, this job is leaving me gasping for air and giggling at the absurdity of it all at the same time.
Cocktail waitressing (or to use our very PC official title, beverage serving) is a trip. The shifts are long, but the hours fly by. Walk though your section calling for drinks, run back to the service well to gather non-alcoholic orders. Make the coffee, get the water bottles, fill the glasses with cokes - one straw for regular, and two for diet. And don't mix them up! We don't have dish washers either, so do a load of dishes while you're back there. Run to the bar and punch in your order. Garnish the drinks (properly). Get everything on your tray and balance on one hand while weaving through crowds of gamblers celebrating victories or reacting to big losses. Remember who had what and where they were seated amidst the vast ocean of slot machines. Take payment and make change in your head. Don't drop that tray. Collect empty glasses. Repeat.
And all that in heels.
Each day has gotten easier, and there are some pretty cool perks to working in such a huge place. There's a 24-hour staff cafeteria that serves all it's food for free. There's a super sweet uniforms headquarters (which I keep referring to as the costume department) that is very high-tech. You swipe your badge and there is huge machine that finds your uniform bag among the thousands of uniforms and and sends it zooming down a shoot, right into your hands. I'm very entertained by this.
There are some sucky things too. My feet are killing me. They look like swollen little sausages by the end of every night and ibuprofen only helps a little. I've been assured that I will get used to this. Also, I don't get home until almost 3:30 am, meaning I only get to see Ricky while he's asleep. But those things are minor annoyances in the larger scheme of things. I just keep reminding myself that it's temporary. I just keep thinking of the bigger goal.
Today was my first day off in five days and it was perfect. Ricky was home from school since it was Presidents Day, so we spent it lazily roaming about the neighborhood. Ate baked eggs, coffee and fruit at Oddfellows. Browsed Elliot Bay Books and made two purchases each. Read our new finds on the couch together. Slurped pho down the street for lunch and went sale shopping at Urban Outfitters. Had a good nap. Ricky worked on homework. I'm blogging. I can hear the rain outside my window and Ricky just picked up his guitar. I'm happy.
I agreed to choreograph a musical in Kent, I'm starting rehearsals for David's Northwest New Works piece, continuing voice lessons, and I still have weekly rehearsals for Redd Legg, so things are getting busy around here. However, I expect to get back on a regular blogging basis now that I've acclimated to the new sleep schedule. So don't fret.
Now to eat some cereal for dinner and cuddle.