Can I get a side of Ranch?

Don’t sell to minors! Don’t sell to minors standing up! Don’t sell to minors sitting down! You will ruin your life and go to jail! This was repeated for five hours while my roommate and I proceeded to get our Oregon liquor licenses. We had both been promoted to servers at the local fish house…possibly one of the worst jobs I’ve ever had. We were young, naïve, and had no idea how much of a lifestyle serving would be.

Now for those of you who never had the pleasure of working in the food service industry let me tell you that it is one of the best and worst experiences a person can ever have.

Being a server is similar to being a doormat people walk all over you and you have to keep a smile on your face while you get that fat bitch another side of ranch.  I’ve worked for restaurants up and down the spectrum and let me tell you there is a big difference between working for a chain where your manager is a recovering Meth addict on a power trip who is consistently telling you to smile. Verses working for the local pub where your boss is the hottest man you’ve ever seen behind a bar and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

Working in a restaurant means free food, cheap liquor, fast money, and some very attractive men that you have the pleasure of bumping elbows with on a regular basis. Restaurant life is highly incestuous and full of drama. Someone usually leaves a shift pissed off and if it wasn’t because some asshole yelled at you because their steak was medium instead of medium rare, it’s because the person you were hooking up with is now hooking up with someone else. But at the end of the night you go to the same bar, drink with the same people, and do it all again tomorrow.

You can see how this life would almost be glamorous to someone who was working their way through college. I look back on the day I got my liquor license. My roommate and I had spent the last five hours in dive a bar that smelled like cigarette smoke and forgotten dreams. “We wont have to do this again for five years!” My roommate said after examining her brand new liquor license. I looked at her and very seriously said…

“I hope to God I’m not still serving in five years.”

I just renewed my liquor license last week.

Round Two…


5 months In

“Are you exercising?” the most common question to receive from my father. I think he likes to ask it because he thinks it’s a safe question to ask. Not the case… asking me if I’ve been exercising is like saying “Hey I noticed you looked a little fatter than normal…might want to take care of that.”

“No Dad I’m not excising, I am drinking lots of wine though.” He means well but it was really the last thing I needed tonight. I don’t know why I’ve always thought that life in my twenties would be glamorous, exciting, full of parties and attractive men. When in reality I’m at home most of the time trying to make an appetizing meal out of eggs and green beans. Nothing about my life is glamorous unless you want to count conning the cosmetic girls out of free samples at Nordstrom. And to top it all off the last date I went on resulted with me paying for more than my half of the bill. And since when did women start having to pay for half?  It’s a date God damn it! Pay for some shit! Get creative!

I knew it would be difficult to get a job in my field but after getting an interview at an up-and-coming ad agency I thought all my dreams were coming true. I dazzled them with my wits and had them laughing at every anecdote. As I was leaving the office they asked about my salary demands.  The moment I got in my car I texted everyone I’d ever met in my life.  “I’m getting a job at an ad agency! All my dreams are coming true! I’m awesome!” I’m still waiting to hear back… it’s been two months.