What I have learned from both writing this blog and from doing my waitressing jobs has essentially manifested itself into one key fact which I believe makes it all worth while...I am not alone. People have told me they have actually read all of my rants and also enjoyed them which makes me one very happy bunny. The reason I believe they have enjoyed them, apart from of course my excellent prose skills, is because they can relate the the situation I'm in. With close to 1 million 16-24 year olds out of work in the UK, it's hardly surprising.
The more people I meet at work, the more I realise that while we are all happy to be doing our job, and we do it damn well, most of us are overqualified to simply be serving tables. There are people with degrees in psychology, engineering, English and languages who all deserve more than a job which is obviously classed as the pits due to the ridiculously low wage we receive and the way some waiting staff are treated.
Why, for instance, do male guests feel they have the right to be sexually overbearing with female waitresses? I've had all sorts. Take today, a rosy faced man decided it was quite OK for him to kiss me on the cheek with his grizzly face and port soaked breath. As a friend I would appreciate the sentiment but at work I would prefer a tip please! I've been thrown lewd comments, had my bum commented on, been handed a business card and even been asked out on a date. I wouldn't mind but I think a lot of these wealthy business men do it for a thrill - the underpaid waitress and the millionaire type scenario. All I know is that none of the women I've worked with have appreciated these situations.
There is hope however. Armed with our degrees, our CV and our blistering perseverance we shall vanquish the champagne drunkards and win over our bosses-to-be until we are the ones being served canapés at Claridges... and we will know our table manners.