MMMMMM Toasty!

When I turned sixteen, I got my first car for my birthday with the only condition being that I pay for the gas and maintenance myself. This resulted in my working in one of the offices of my dad's company for a couple hours after school daily for my final two years of high school. I pretty much had it made. 70% of my duties was going on ice cream runs for the gals in the office in my new wheels (White '91 Buick Regal with red leathuh interior!), and the other 30% of my time was spent gossiping with them. Finally, the day of doom came around when I was reprimanded for sporting daisy dukes and platforms in the office, and that was it. Being the pigheaded gal that I am, I decided anyplace must be better than that stuffy dump. That day I took my first steps down the long, winding, magical path of THE FOOD INDUSTRY!!

My first job was hostessing at Razzoo's Cajun Cafe, a chain whose only other locations are oddly in Texas. We opened the restaurant in Charlotte, and were taught to greet customers with a big ol' smile and a spirited, "Hey Y'all!!!" I was fired after a week and a half. I began thinking that perhaps serving others was not my forté . I took a leave of absence from the industry to think it over, and checked out the retail side of things slinging Doc Martens in the mall shoe store, Journeys--after all, their slogan is "An attitude you can wear."

Following that job, I jumped from movie theater employee, to Renaissance Fest serving wench, to bank teller, and eventually to a short stint at Quizno's, which is where I saved up a meager amount of cash to move to Bushwick, Brooklyn. Thanks Quiznos! It wasn't until I moved to New York that I really dove into the service industry head first.

My first waitressing job was in a dingy irish bar and restaurant that paid me just enough to barely make rent. The job ended 8 months after it began when the bartender threw a cup of tartar sauce on me. Though I stuck around in the service industry this time, I vowed to never waitress again no matter what.

Check out this great essay on the very industry that feeds you, me, and paid my rent for 5+ years:
IN WHICH YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE LOSING A PIECE OF YOUR SOUL