So I went and got myself a second job. I have mixed feelings about this… on the one hand, we could really use the extra money, but I am also conflicted about spending even more time away from Cole and there are just other issues that I’m struggling with. But whatever, I got the job. It is at a little local place here in my town, and I actually worked at a different branch back when I was in college. It was my first serving job (and will hopefully be my last!)
Last night was my first night of training. Eventually I will be a server but first I have to work at the hostess desk and the kitchen to learn the table numbers and menu items. Said menu items have not changed in the slightest since I worked there fifteen years ago, but whatever. So I dressed in my oh so attractive khaki pants and green collared polo shirt, nametag secure.
My trainers had obviously just come out of the womb. They were both seventeen, a fresh faced boy with braces and a tiny girl with a braid in her hair. Very nice, but so, so young. I felt like I was from the Middle Ages next to them. The boy asked me when I had worked there before, and when I said the year he burst into laughter and said, “I wasn’t even born yet!” Way to make me feel better, little boy. Like I said, sweet kids, but that’s what they were, kids.
I will survive the children, certainly, and hopefully make some good money on the side. I still have my other job as well, and am working as a server on my off days. I’ll serve the pants off those kids!!