The best generals in history rose up from the bottom. They know what it’s like to crawl through mud and blood and understand conflict at all levels of war. It’s the same in the restaurant industry. I’ve seen too many daddy’s boys or corporate hacks planted into management, who fucked everything up, to know the best leaders come from the ranks.
I remember employees once introducing themselves at a pizza chain that had just opened. Some were newbies to the industry, many had worked one or two positions, but most had done a single role their entire career.There’s nothing wrong with that, you need fresh blood as well as veterans who can master single, crucial tasks.
But when it was my turn I was uncharacteristically articulate. I can’t remember my exact words… certainly they didn’t match Maximus at the beginning of Gladiator, but I made the point that I had risen up… and down, the ranks: “I’ve been in the industry for 7 years,” I started. “I’ve bussed tables, poured drinks, delivered pizza, and served whole restaurants,” I continued. “And I’ve done everything between dishwashing and management,” I finished.
I don’t know if that made me sound impressive and wise, or foolish and difficult from moving from place to place, role to role. Perhaps it was both. But what I said was true and its given me a strategic perspective most industry people lack.
Either way, my time in the dish pit was often better than you’d think.
***
Bryon told me in the industry you can go from management to dishwashing in a heartbeat. Fifteen years ago I proved the point. I’d recently left the bar where a customer nearly killed a man by hitting him over the head with a stool… during my first shift as manager!
It wasn’t a great time for me. I was unemployed, obese, and heartbroken over some crazy religious girl, but that’s for another story. But I rebuilt myself over the next few months. I can’t remember if I got E.I. or had enough savings to take a break from work, but I spent the next four months working out intensely. I lost 60 pounds, looked great, and regained my confidence. While I was still quiet back then I remember seeing the shocked look on many girls’ faces who had never given me the time of day. I enjoyed pretending I didn’t know who they were when they flirted with me.
But here’s a lesson guys need to know, because it doesn’t apply to women. You can be fit and and very good looking as a man but that doesn’t guarantee you’ll get dates or laid… if you have decent standards at least. Keep that in mind for later.
Unfortunately, while I had regained my confidence and gotten in shape I needed a job and the pickings weren’t great that year. Eventually, I saw a job add for a delivery driver/dishwasher at a pizza chain, and being desperate for money I shot off an email. A few days later I was called in for an interview.
The kitchen manager who interviewed me was straight forward, by-the-book, and would end up being a bit of a dick, but he wasn’t the worst boss I’ve had. At least he usually left me alone, had my back, and gave me a raise when I asked for it. Anyway, I worked at the pizza place for a year until I got tired of dishwashing and went back to bartending.
***
Dishwashing was tedious, repetitive, and hardly glamourous. I worked 10am to 5pm Monday to Friday, which meant it was the only job in my career I had evenings and weekends off. While I washed dishes I was also as a prep cook and delivered pizzas. Delivering pizzas was fun, prepping food was meh, and washing dishes was boring. When I delivered pizzas most of the day the job wasn’t so bad, but when I dish washed nearly straight for five to seven hours it was nearly insufferable.
Too many people haven’t worked menial jobs that society looks down on. This is unfortunate because with the rise of individualism and narcissism a growing proportion of the population needs more humility. I have no time for college grads who’ve never had a job before graduating and think entry level positions are beneath them. Nor do I take serious privileged people who got good jobs thanks to nepotism or their parents, and never worked retail, fast food, or a service related job a day in their lives.
Maybe it was how I was raised but I tried taking pride in every job I had and didn’t look down on honest work. Because it may have been gross and smelly in the dish pit but it was less morally dubious than the often shallow and manipulative world of bartending.
On the plus side I made great money… certainly more than as a manager, and it may have been the highest paying job I had in the industry. Because thanks to delivering pizzas I got $5 to $10 dollars for each delivery, depending on the distance travelled. I also get tipped by the customers… usually. By the way, schools and business offices tipped the worst! On top of this I was tipped out by the front of house. All of this, along with working nearly 40 hours a week meant I made good bank indeed.
This meant my year in the dish pit was one of the few periods in my career I had financial and job security (given guaranteed deliveries, tip outs, and the fact few people want to wash dishes). In some ways it was a great time for me. I could afford a comfortable lifestyle, got to enjoy evenings and weekends, and besides small talk when I dropped off pizzas I didn’t have to deal with customers.
But there was a cost to being a dishwasher as most women, especially younger ones, looked down on it and it was hard to get a date. And before you all express outrage how many of you, men or women, would date a dishwasher?
***
In the beginning this didn’t bother me because I was getting over the crazy religious girl I’d worked at a motel bar with. Instead, I focused on self-improvement and getting in shape. My routine after starting at the restaurant was working 10-5, going to the gym, reading and writing at night, and drinking with the boys on weekends. I was busy, productive, and getting stronger and healthier.
But eventually I got over the girl and combined with hormones and loneliness I began desiring female companionship. On the plus side, I was the best looking I’ve ever been in my life and dressed well. On the negative side, I was still relatively quiet and of course a dishwasher!
Despite being an average pizza chain there was no lack of cute waitresses. Most thought I was hot, many of them were flirtatious, but none of them showed real interest in getting to know me or inviting me when the staff went out. Of course men are expected to lead, so I tested the waters with a few to hang out but there was always a lame excuse or a real (or imagined) boyfriend.
To be fair most of the girls were friendly and easygoing but I’m willing to bet half a grand I would’ve had more success if I bartended there instead of washing dishes! Given I got a few dates outside of work at the time, with much less effort, this wasn’t an unfair assumption. However, these never turned into anything serious and one of the girls was so… eccentric she ate garnishes on the bartop when I brought her to my workplace.
Eventually, I gave up on dating for awhile and focused on writing and enjoying the weekends. But then something happened that frequently occurred in my career: I unintentionally developed feelings for one of my colleagues.
***
Amber was 22 and awkward, but probably the most attractive girl I had laid my eyes upon to that point in my life. While I found her hot right away it took a few months working with her to really feel something. With hindsight and as with most girls I fell for, I wish I hadn’t.
She was not only cute but OOZED sex appeal. Amber was 5 feet 6 inches tall, dark haired and had a young, beautiful face. Being slim but still curvaceous (and having other ideal physical attributesI won’t lie to you: I’ve never wanted to bed a girl as much as I did her. In fact, she looked like a young Ava Addams, my favourite… performer at the time.
Back then Amber worked part time at the restaurant while studying to be a nurse. That implied she was intelligent and ambitious, but I hate hospitals and everything related to them, so I never asked her about it (maybe that was a mistake). But I admired that she knew her career path and would start it in her 20s. Unlike myself, she wisely used the industry to pay for university and got the hell out once she graduated.
Maybe because she was soft spoken, a bit nerdy, and clumsy I found her endearing and easy to talk to. She had no attitude or chip on her shoulder, like so many bombshell girls do… or that’s how it appeared at least. I knew she found me attractive as I kept catching her checking me out, and because she often tripped over things when she got close to me. She’d even punch me lightly on the shoulder, throw things at me, and teased me often. But attraction doesn’t mean interest and courting her would prove to be a frustrating endeavour.
But I wouldn’t figure that out for many months and in the meantime I played it slow and cool with her.
***
It started with friendly greetings and small talk, then eventually escalated into subtle flirting. But at the time my small talk was rusty and I flirted the way you fire a machine gun… in short, controlled bursts. Luckily, Amber was awkward and goofy herself and I got a pass as I was stunning at the time. Because the line between magnetism and creepy for most girls is physical attraction!
Unfortunately, talking and flirting isn’t enough and eventually you have to make a move to get the girl… because they rarely do so themselves. They will give you signals and openings but unless they’re drunk or bold men have to take the risks. So being a young, nervous man at the time I waited until it was a quiet day when it was just her serving the dining room.
I saw her in the expo area and she immediately relaxed and sat down on a stool as I entered. I’m not sure what we talked about at first, but it was likely something lame like how the day was going or current events. Eventually, I just went for it and asked for her number (though I forget if I asked her if she wanted to hang out). I’d like to think I did this in a cool, confident manner, but most likely my heart was pounding since I was still young and naively believed in romance.
But Amber agreed immediately, with some enthusiasm, so we entered our numbers into each others’ flip phones, which were still common at the time. Being happy with this development I went back to the dish pit and pretended not to be excited… and shocked a girl who looked like Ava Addams gave me her number. I’m sure I got happily drunk that night and patiently waited the three standard days to ask her out.
After some lame pleasantries via texts I made a move on the weekend. Maybe because I didn’t want to immediate ask her for drinks, or that I wanted to remind her I was in shape, I asked if she wanted to go for a walk around the park. She was kind and considerate but told me she had a boyfriend (who turned out to be her fiancé by the way).
“FUCK…” was all I could think. “Thanks though,” is all she offered while I bowed out of the conversation with humour and dignity. This was the moment I should’ve given up but I’ve always been a stubborn fool. But had I known she actually had a fiancé I would’ve thrown in the towel. Instead, I decided to continue my usual flirting and engagements with her, to imply I was still interested if things changed but I wouldn’t be aggressive. I did this for a few weeks and things were fine, but then I got drunk one night and told her my intentions directly.
Big mistake of course, given girls don’t really care if you show such interest indirectly, but you lose points if you say this openly. Most likely because most of them like games, the chase, and can pretend they weren’t flirting or interested if things go to hell. That may sound harsh, but with the exception of my current girlfriend and a handful of others that’s been my experience with young women.
So after this we would text, flirt, and talk, and sometimes get closer, but we rarely saw each other outside of work. I asked her to hang out a few more times and lamely pretended it was innocent, but great white sharks always sense when there’s blood in the water.
In the meantime, I tried being more sociable and engaged at work, coming in for drinks and trying to get to know the staff. Needless to say this had mixed results as besides the BOH most of the FOH would only make small talk but not take the dishwasher seriously. But hey, at least the bartenders got good tips from me!
***
Eventually this nonsense came to an end around December when Amber finished school and quit the restaurant, without bothering to tell me (perhaps that was a clue). Being young, immature, and pathetic, I texted her to go all out and tell her how I felt. Needless to say, it was a disaster and she denied there was any attraction between us. With hindsight I know I was dumb to chase her after saying she had a boyfriend (although they always seem to either have one or in the process of doing so).
She blocked me and I fell into a deep depression, which in hindsight I feel ridiculous about. But feelings are feelings and most people do stupid things when they like someone.
The next time I saw Amber she came into the lounge for drinks while I was at the bartop. She was actually friendly and comfortable towards me and being an idiot I was glad to see her. Unfortunately, one of our bartenders was off shift, drunk, and didn’t take kindly to my previous attempts to court Amber. There was a brief… disagreement, which fortunately didn’t end in violence, but she soon left and I never saw her again. With hindsight that was for the best. Because 16 years later I have a girlfriend nearly a decade younger and she’s not fat and depressed like Amber.
Sometimes you dodge more bullets than you think.
***
I continued on at the restaurant, dishwashing and delivering pizzas for a few more months until my depression and getting tired of washing dishes made me seek out bartending again. Really though I don’t regret the job given the good pay, I didn’t have to deal with customers, and I can say I served in the dish pit, which I consider a badge of honour.
Because whenever I’m accused of being privileged or coming from a good background I ask the person if they’ve pushed shopping carts, bagged groceries, or washed dishes for a living. None of them ever have and informing them of all the menial jobs I’ve done wipes the smirk off their faces instantly.