Personal Essay Hey, welcome to Americana! What can I get yal started with tonight?

I ask my customers as they start to look at the menu. Last summer, I decided to start looking for a job. I needed the income; about to start my senior year of high school, I was taking on some serious responsibilities such as paying for phone bills, gas, and car insurance. So I did the logical thing any teenager would do, look online for jobs for a good month. Procrastination was at its best. It was summer and all I had on my mind was sunshine and relaxation. Why on earth would I want to work when I could be at the beach or swimming with my friends at sleep over parties? Oh wait, you need money to get to those places. The middle of July was speeding by and I had just put out four applications and walked the streets in search of an on spot interview. No luck. A week passed and I was in little faith for actually getting a call from one of the businesses. My friend, Joe, decided to cheer me up and invited me to his house to play a couple rounds of pool. In the middle an attempted shot for my stripes, my phone started to vibrate. Who could be calling me? I wondered. But realization sunk in just as I was in mid shoot. I scratched, but I didnt care, I had a potential job calling me back! I answered the phone and a heavy accented man was on the line. I could barely understand what he was saying; it was something about an interview and at 4oclock. Okay okay I responded, I can be there! In my cut off shorts and tank top, I had 30minutes to make it to the restaurant. I hadnt anticipated the interview to be so soon so the attire was nowhere near my conscious mind at the moment. Winded and nervous, I sat through the brief interview with the tall man who had

dark gelled hair and heavy bags under his eyes. His skeleton like body explained to me the health codes required to work there while I told him the possible hours I could work in a week. The next day I was scheduled to work; we had sealed the deal and I was now employed. The first week of training was brutal. I was exposed to all kinds of rules and customs, having to memorize the menu and the specials for everyday of the week was beyond difficult. I was assigned to follow Idena, one of the senior waitresses, for four days so I would get myself accustomed with their policies. Smooth talking and professional, she literally had her customers eating out of her hands. Her quick pace and agility enhanced her performance while she waited on people. Not once can I recall Idena messing up an order. I had the best in the restaurant to train me. Once my four days had passed, they placed me on the floor. My section only had three tables, but that was plenty for me. Hey yal, Hows everyone doin, Wow this weather is crazy; I attempted so many different approaches for an introduction but nothing sounded right. Ordering was an ordeal in itself. Some people cant make up their minds while others wanted a meal but needed exact specifications as to how it is prepared. Needless to say, the staff didnt think highly of me when I messed up two orders in a row in one night. On one occasion, a cane-crutched couple was seated in my section. Doting over each other and so familiar with their partner, all I could do was hope I would someday be like them. So in love. They ordered their meal which I still remember today; the woman wanted country style steak over rice, lima beans, and apple sticks, while the man wanted clam chowder soup and a grill cheese sandwich. I put in the

order and prepared the husbands soup and took it out for him. Moments later, he beckoned for me to come over and requested for me to heat up the dish. I took it to the microwave, placed it in there for 25 seconds and took it back out for my customer. By that time, their order was in the window so I took it out as well. They thanked me and commenced eating their food. So how is everything folks? I questioned them. Fine, fine, they replied, Except, I seem to be missing a spoon. I rushed to the kitchen to grab a spoon, questioning as to whether or not I had already given him a spoon. I came back to see the man pulling out an object from his soup. I was horrified! The couple chuckled once they realized the spoon had slipped into the bowl of soup when I heated it up. Luckily, the spoon was completely submerged and didnt set off any sparks while in the microwave. That was my first terrible encounter while waitressing my first week. If we fast forward five months later, I have upgraded to a section of five tables and a large booth that seats 8. By this point, I had achieved carrying a tray full of food in one hand and a pitcher of sweet tea in the other while dogging the customers in the restaurant. I had taken care of large birthday parties as well as playing cashier when the register had a large line. Yes, you could say I had become pro. On a slow day at work, a small group of people came to celebrate their mothers 51st birthday. I was their designated waitress, the one who after their meal had to clear the plates and prepare the complementary banana pudding as well as sing the official Happy Birthday from Americana song. All was going well until my section was sat twice and I didnt have enough time to take orders and create the

pudding. I was desperate for help. My coworker Kim, who was starting her first week waitressing, offered to make the desert for me. This was my break; I thanked her for assisting me and continued with my new customers while she assembled my pudding. Ten minutes had passed and I had not seen Kim yet. Frantically looking for the new waitress, she appears suddenly, desert in hands; the staff gathers and we sing the modified birthday song. Minutes later I dropped by to make sure the birthday girl was satisfied; slowly approaching I say how do you like the banana pudding dear? Oh the look on this womans face. It is fine, I really appreciate the gesture but I dont think this is good pudding Embarrassment flew across my face, now as red as a beet. How could I explain this? It wasnt my fault, but taking it into consideration, I didnt supervise Kim while she made the food. I hadnt made sure she knew what she was doing. Contemplating how to phrase the event that just occurred to my manager, I made my way to him. He understood and offered any desert for the woman, on the house. This made up for the slight mishap; however, I have yet to see the family back in the restaurant. About two months ago, I was working a shift from one to close, so we had a momentary break between the lunch rush and the dinner haste. Usually, a couple stragglers will walk in around 3oclock, but not many, so waitresses take advantage of this time and do side work while we tend to the few customers. On this particular day, a woman with a sparkly gray top and dark hair peppered with silver strolls in. She takes a seat and I ask for her order. The woman seemed nice enough; she was lively and her rosy lips smiled back at me. Her order came up and I brought the food out. I couldnt help but ask what her plans were for the day. The elderly may say

they are heading to their 4oclock sewing class or to the Levine Center in Matthews. Not this woman. No, she was on a very different schedule; the doctor was her destination. She was going for a test to see if she had cancer still. I found out that her hair was just a wig; she had undergone various treatments to rid her body of the colon cancer she had had for three years which caused her to lose her hair. Alone, she had no family to support her. The doctors had given her 5 years to live, and she had made it to three so far. As I sat there and listened to the woman tell me her experience, my eyes filled with tears. The whole thing was frightening, hearing how she had never been sick- not even the chicken pox- and how she had never smoked or drank. One day, this happened to this poor woman. She was so brave, so determined to beat the cancer though. If I hadnt had taken out 15 minutes of my day and listened to what someone had to say, they would have ate in silence, they would have felt unwanted, they would have been alone. She reached out and emotionally seized me from my work atmosphere and allowed me to see how lucky I am to be healthy and have my family when I am in need. I dont remember this womans name, but I will remember her story.