I decided it was time to continue my life in stories. So far, I've done from years 1 to 19.
After my disastrous attempt to go to school in a different city, I dropped out. I decided to branch out into the world of the employed.
After numerous failed attempts to join the minions of the minimum wage, I was chosen to start as a waitress at the Elephant and Castle. I think that I clinched the interview by telling the manager that I wanted to make her proud of me. Can you say issues?
The next week I was decked out in my waitressing attire -- black pants, red polo shirt and a smile. I had high hopes for me.
I should have known.
Why would someone who can hardly walk across an empty room without falling down think she could balance a tray of anything while crossing a crowded restaurant?
My first day was a disaster. I was settled with a nice family with a little boy. They ordered drinks, I put them in the system. They ordered food. The little boy ordered fish and chips. The food never came.
Know why? Yeah, I forgot to put it in the system. They left in a flurry of anger and starving cries of a toddler.
It went down hill from there.
One day, I had a tray of 4 iced teas. I carefully balanced them all and braced myself because there was a cute boy at the table with his parents. I walked slowly and gracefully towards the table. Up one step -- all good. One more step -- I made it.
Then I tripped on my shoelace and dumped the entire tray in his lap.
Another day, they sent me to work on the mezzanine. That is a fancy word for second floor with a circling metal staircase. I had a couple of tables -- nothing too strenuous -- and very little to actually do. However, it meant climbing up and down those stairs for everything: drinks, food, bills, etc.
I was heading up the stairs with a freshly brewed pot of coffee in one hand and a pint of beer in the other when disaster struck. Again, it came in step form. I tripped on the landing and fell face first. One arm over one edge of the landing and one arm over the other.
Did I mention there were tables near the steps? Yup. Once couple got a lunch full of ale. The other, a lap full of coffee.
That was my last day working as a waitress. They moved me upstairs to cover the horse racing crowd. I spent the rest of my career pouring coffee for Greek men who bet hundreds and left no tips.
And the waitress who replaced me on the main floor?
Only spoke Spanish.