Doorway To Schizophrenia
I watched the moving "Waiting" this weekend. As far as a plot goes, it's non-existent, and the dialogue is wretched, but the core message behind the movie had me riveted.
"Waiting" is about a bunch of twenty-somethings who make their living in the restaurant industry. And while I'm watching this, I'm suddenly transported back to my restaurant days. It's amazing how accurate they portrayed the average American restaurant and the personalities that work there.
There's the slutty young underage hostess. The cool pretty-boy that sleeps with everyone. The woman who's been waitressing just a little too long (hence the term, Doorway To Schizophrenia, a term coined by myself & a good friend. You walk into the back, and you curse like a trucker; you walk into the dining room and you're Ms. Suzy Sunshine). The obnoxious tattooed grill cook. The older experienced sage who everyone goes to for advice. The drugged out bus boy. The lesbian bartender. And let's not forget the after-party EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, where all the employees get together to unwind and end up in some co-worker's bed the next morning.
It amazed me how much of that I'm suppressed. I think it was self-defense, a method to cope with the post-traumatic stress disorder you contract when you work in a restaurant. But it was so accurate, that it opened a floodgate of memories that I'd left somewhere in my subconscious. Good times, good times.
So which personality was I? I was very much like the main character; the once-ambitious but now slightly lazy server who gets caught in the machinations of the daily grind...quiet but witty... far too smart to be a lifetime server, but too lazy to figure out what I want to do with my life. I do my job, and do it well. But eventually, reality calls, and I realize I don't want to spend the rest of my life smelling like country-fried steak. And that's when I decide to turn in the apron and follow my dream...
...but you know, I made more as a waiter, and the damn government didn't take HALF as much in taxes!
"Waiting" is about a bunch of twenty-somethings who make their living in the restaurant industry. And while I'm watching this, I'm suddenly transported back to my restaurant days. It's amazing how accurate they portrayed the average American restaurant and the personalities that work there.
There's the slutty young underage hostess. The cool pretty-boy that sleeps with everyone. The woman who's been waitressing just a little too long (hence the term, Doorway To Schizophrenia, a term coined by myself & a good friend. You walk into the back, and you curse like a trucker; you walk into the dining room and you're Ms. Suzy Sunshine). The obnoxious tattooed grill cook. The older experienced sage who everyone goes to for advice. The drugged out bus boy. The lesbian bartender. And let's not forget the after-party EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, where all the employees get together to unwind and end up in some co-worker's bed the next morning.
It amazed me how much of that I'm suppressed. I think it was self-defense, a method to cope with the post-traumatic stress disorder you contract when you work in a restaurant. But it was so accurate, that it opened a floodgate of memories that I'd left somewhere in my subconscious. Good times, good times.
So which personality was I? I was very much like the main character; the once-ambitious but now slightly lazy server who gets caught in the machinations of the daily grind...quiet but witty... far too smart to be a lifetime server, but too lazy to figure out what I want to do with my life. I do my job, and do it well. But eventually, reality calls, and I realize I don't want to spend the rest of my life smelling like country-fried steak. And that's when I decide to turn in the apron and follow my dream...
...but you know, I made more as a waiter, and the damn government didn't take HALF as much in taxes!
posted by Kristie at 7:01 AM
2 Comments:
Hmm, maybe I should have been a waiter in college.
I think EVERYONE should have to wait tables for at least one week of their life....
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