Waitressing

This will be a compilation of my experience as a part-time waitress over the last couple of years. I've always wanted to share that, the interactions I have with people. From the most amazing ones to my least favorites, all of the ones that have at some point given me the idea to share. To tell a story. I will be writing in different ways, either storytelling or in the present. Maybe even from third perspective just to change it up a bit, the one true thing here is that this is based on my real experiences. This is real life- from my point of view. They will be in no chronological order, I write when I remember or sometimes the same day :)

January 2025
It's a Thursday, I'm tired. I don't want to be at work really, usually I'm a bit more optimistic, but not today. Today I'm tired and feeling like I've been doing too much. Big decisions to be made, some stress around my visa and so on. I'm not my self, I wanted to say my bubbly self, but that would be to make language more colourful. My well-rested self is not that bubbly, at least not with the customers.

A couple of hours into the shift and I'm still using my last energy to talk to people, being as kind and patient as I can. A lovely couple walks in and are given a table in my station- everyone has an area so that we have more control over our tables. A few minutes later I walk over to ask if they are ready to order and indeed they are. I flash out my writing pad and pen and start taking their order. I hear them speak German between each other as they try and figure out what to order. They must be in their sixties I think to myself as I awkwardly and tiredly wait for them to start placing the order so I write it down.

The husband is bubbly, he is his bubbly self. I try to smile, I take the order in English of course because I don't speak German. They are lovely people- we exchange a few laughs during the order and I walk away. Exhausted.

I keep sharing with one of my colleagues that I'm exhausted.

'Er det bare mæ eller er det en sånn dag?', I ask him in Norwegian.

'Nææi, det e ikke bare dæ', comes the response.

I'm tired, so tired for some reason.

The sun has just come back to the city after being away for months- we should be happy! And we are, but just tired. Maybe just getting used to the light now, just not drinking enough water, eating enough, stressing too much. You know how it goes.

The couple got their food and have been eating so I make a turn at their table to ask how the food is, if they need anything more to drink. The husband would like to order more wine and something else so I start jotting down.

'... so tell me, where are your parents from?', he asks so naturally. And I'm taken aback.

My tired mind does not understand where that comes from. How that just follows right after a red wine order. As if I am obligated to answer that, I should. It's not a secret is it? Where my parents are from, where I'm from. But the confirmation would be nice, no?

I'm not able to answer right away, I'm taking in this whole thing. Contemplating on what to say. It's a full restaurant, I'm tired.

'Uh, I'm not really comfortable sharing that', I say. There is so much noise around me. I feel people staring when in reality its not that intense.

There is an awkward silence between us. I don't remember looking at him when I said that. I don't know why the question came like an offense, it wasn't. It was just so unexpected and felt so entitled, hence my reaction. I really got uncomfortable, and for the first time I said that. This was the first time someone asked out of the blue, just like that even, where my PARENTS are from. Usually it starts with so where are you from and I'm happy to share. And for us to get there, there is usually a bit of conversation before and this is where it gets tricky.

Maybe the few laughs we had while I was taking the first order led up to that? I led them think that I was my 'bubbly' confidents self and would probably answer without taking offence? I was the one smiling and inviting such conversation neh?

The husband did apologize and say that he did not mean to make me uncomfortable. I did not mean to get uncomfortable. How would he know what day I was having? How would I know that I would react like that?

This was one of that interactions that really had me thinking about well, being human. Connecting and interacting with other human beings and just not knowing what space a person is in. How the things we say can sound like to the other person. How we can perceive the world around us because of the things we are going through. I want to believe that it was my tired mind reading that situation in that way, because they were actually a lovely couple and on a good day, I would have spent more than five minutes on their table.

Well, that was it for now. Looking forward to sharing my next interaction with you!