What began with an email response to a newspaper ad was concluded with a wave and a walk down the street last Saturday. The notice in the paper gave no restaurant name, only an email address. It was one in a pile of clippings that SG and I split back in the fall when we were job hunting.
When Miranda called me, I was at the library and had to ask her to repeat herself several times (noisy libraries + Aussie accent). At the interview, my selling points were growing up on Mexican food and the multitasking skills of a teacher. That's it. No previous wait staff experience, only salsa eating experience. Maybe it was the last question that got them on board. They asked if I thought I could learn the skills quickly. No hesitation, no blink, just a firm "yes". I wasn't really that confident, but when you're selling yourself as a waitress, there's no time for contemplation.
There's the night I thought the man said Moylah, when he actually said Merlot. The night I got a $10 tip from a family because kids are my favorite customers. The night a couple didn't want to pay because their meal took a long time, and Anna had to call Dean. The staff Christmas party when I got my first taste of being one of a few sober people at a sloshing drinking fest. Learning to make margaritas. Still forgetting what exactly Jim Beam is. The woman from Arizona who ordered takeout and has mutual friends of mine in Australia. Eating tacos on a break in the back. Wrenching my back carrying and stacking the chairs and tables for the night. The man who shares my birthday who's going to Hawaii with his family to celebrate who came in again and remembered my name. The night I could write down the "regulars" order from memory.
Now it's all over. My visa only allows me to work at one business for 6 months before I have to change. My 6 months is up. My last shift, Saturday, Dean didn't even know it was my last shift (mostly because Miranda the manager is his brain). He was disappointed I had to leave. I'll miss working with Dean and Miranda and Mercia and Alana. Dean's good at what he does because he can talk to anyone. Miranda's good because she's organized and firm. Mercia isn't much of a customer service girl when it comes to being a waitress, but she's efficient and has experience. Alana just gets the job done.
What was bookended by such quiet circumstances will stand in my memory as an almost romantic (in the old sense) period of growth (I can make a decent Fruit Tingle margarita) and challenge (you have to tell the customer something when you realize you've completely wrecked their order). Who knows, I may go on to become a waitress to beat all waitresses, and this small Mexican restaurant has earned its place as the first waitressing job I ever had.
So goodbye, little Mexican restaurant. I hope you continue to serve up fajitas with sizzling style, and I hope for the sake of your dignity, that after a while people learn what frijoles are.
La senorita del sol
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