(Prose Version)
I
owe much to the restaurants I have worked. It is due to this debt, that I write
this ode. Though, even in the best of times, I find the onus to have been
odious, a loathsome labor, and wearying-work. Yet these restaurants have always
been there for me; since I left home, un-ripened, and tender, at the age of
fifteen. My sojourn has not toughened me, but rather softened me; like a
prime-cut, of well-marbled, aged beef.
In
the restaurants where I have toiled; dish-washed with hands in a chemical
brine; cooked-dishes with fingers in the open flame; dishes-served, humbly with
knees bent at table, replacing forks and knives. I have cut and sliced and
butchered meat; chopping vegetables, pouring beer, decanting wine, mixing
drinks at the bar; where now, grown older; I manage like a juggler, the many
little things that other servers toss up in the air.
Managing
a restaurant is a feat; a floor show, a dance. It involves no small amount of
tumbling; twisting-acrobatics, mental, and physical contortions, it calls for
emotional endurance, extremes of poise, of patience; of balancing your needs
with your desires, for yourself, and all comers; every guest; each, on the
high-wire, the tightrope, fraught with expectations, the frayed line, taut with
tension and timing.
Restaurants
have lined my pockets; thinly, filled my belly, generously; I run just to keep
my fat from jellying me. A restaurant is a laboratory; of inspiration, flashing
fire in the pan; transformation, where calories become cash. The restaurant is
vigorous, vital, convivial; sharing time with one’s friends, co-workers,
talking about bits, and bites, the bitter and sweet, the tastes that delight.
Restaurant
life is a life of industry. We often hear it referred to as thus; the
restaurant industry, where I serve, in an industry where hospes means guest; the hospitality industry… has
An
emphasis on rest. The word itself; restaurant, is derived from; to refresh, restore; industry from; diligence, Zeal. All for the pleasure of
others; we give our ergs, our time for T.I.P.S.[1]; the small gratuity.
Hospitality,
is an industry and the best word for the work that I do. Hospitality, where work becomes quest. In it, I am not servus,
meaning slave; I am Hospitaliter-knight,
on a Crusade. Hospitality links my work to an ancient world, and a way of life
that gives the guest; repose, and respite, a remove from the vicissitudes of
life; and a plate of victuals to ease their plight.
Laws
of hospitality are ancient; sacred, and universal. They are binding to all; and
common before all other codes; written in our hearts before Manu, before Pharoe,
before Hammurabi set his law in stone. Before Abraham, and Moses these laws
governed the conduct of kings, of emperors, of gods. Great Hercules was
sentenced to his labors for a breach of these, and he found redemption in their
fulfillment.
Am
I grandiose to think of my work in these terms? Perhaps; I wonder, and yet
laboring in restaurants, more often than not, is a great production, a grand
play, staged in a theatre of the absurd. All of these restaurants have taught
me much about life; about living, about how to endure the painful hits, the jibes;
to smile, through hours of servitude, at the delights that delimit, and even
surprise.
At
fifteen years old I took on this role. When asked what I was learning through
serving;
“Humility,”
I replied, with small pride, a quality, which I had theretofore been lacking. And
though I had yet to become humbled, a process called deference was working in
me; like chemistry: a drop of acid, a base note, serving the guest was changing
me; slowly, making me into something new, the magic of cooking with low heat.
I
have aspired to do more than serve; to be on the quest, and yet, looking back
this work has allowed me to do so much; the schedules are always as flexible as
the duties call the server to be. I have run distances, like the Marathon,
earned a Masters degrees; fueling my endeavors with pastas, with coffee,
espresso, and chocolate…with wine to unwind; all equivalent…earning bread for
my time.
I
owe much to these restaurants that have broadened my palate; and my horizons as
well; acquainting me with more people than most can meet in their lives,
serving all types, from all walks of life; both the kind, and the mean, the
gracious good tippers, the uptight penny pinchers, the sordid the spoiled, the
clean and upright. Serving in restaurants, while often a woe; year after year
has me coming for more.
