Sure, why not

When my friend Henry from work suggested that I start a blog about being a counter girl, I thought sure, why not? I already have a blog (which I never write in) so why not just change the subject of that blog from being about me to being about me being a counter girl? I'm trying to try new things, so I might as well try writing about my job. Even if I haven't really written in months, or longer I guess, I can still write! Even if it is awful and mediocre and not clever or funny or anything. And I have a very small vocabulary so prepare to dumb yourself down to read at my level of brain waves.

Anyway, I might as well make this blog honest. It's not like I'm going to be famous someday or anything like that so I'm just going to keep all the names the same. I work at Marathon Grill, 10th and Walnut, in Philly. I work the takeout counter. Which means I answer the phone ("Thank you for calling Marathon, 10th and Walnut, this is Ellen, how can I help you?") and take delivery and pick up orders over the phone, and walk in/take out orders. I have no serving experience (other than the 7 months or so I worked in a retirement home in 9th grade) and so that's why I'm not a server, and I'm stuck doing counter. Which actually, I shouldn't say the word "stuck" because it's not all that bad. I actually like it, and if it weren't for the fact that servers make way more money than I do, I would just stick with counter. But I like money, and I need money, so I'm pushing to become a server. And I'm pretty sure I would already be one if it weren't for the lazy managers who don't want to put me on the schedule to start training for serving and put someone else for counter. Apparently I'm the best counter person ever! And so, I'm destined to be counter forever. Or at least until I say otherwise. Or until I whine enough that they make me server. Anyway, until that day comes, I can write about my experiences on the counter to maybe pass time by a little more quickly.

So, in case anyone was bored enough to wonder what an average day is like at Marathon as a counter girl, this is what it's like: I come in, at 10AM and maybe run to the bank for the manager, who is most likely Gary or Kevin. (Gary: good. Kevin: not good). While at the bank, you also steal pens because we're too cheap and/or lazy to get new ones. (We run out really quick at the counter because servers come up and take them periodically throughout the day). Then I come back and I refill everything I'm going to need for counter that day, which is a lot. Plasticware, dressings, cups, lids, bowls, sugar, condiments, to go containers, bags, receipt paper, etc... (We are not a very eco-friendly work place, considering how much paper and plastic we go through in a day). Then the phone starts ringing. There are only a few regulars (who I like; familiar people are nice):Mary, who gets the same open face hot turkey for her boss every time, Lorraine who orders delivery every time and I've never actually met, and who gets tuna salad sandwich with extra tomatoes and 5 grain bread every time, Michelle who comes in and gets control freak salad with salmon burger every time, and there are a few others, but those are my favorites. Oh and the bleach blond doctor who always comes in to get half iced tea and half lemonade with lots (and lots!) of ice. (Lots of doctors, we're in the middle of Jefferson Hospital).

And then there are the annoying calls. One today, for instance, was such a talker, that I was glad she called after the rush otherwise I wouldn't have had time to listen to her drone on about which cheese was the least cheesy (which she decided was feta, by the way). I think it was a whole 10 minutes she took deciding what 3 things should go in her U-build omelette. I'm sorry to say, that if you are on the phone ordering food and the person says "Yeah, that sounds good, you should get that," what they really mean is "You're taking too long, please hurry up." Omelettes are not a matter of life or death, so there's really no reason to have a debate with yourself about what's going in it.

Not every day is a good day though, or even a so-so day. This past friday was a terrible day. A lot of times when I am not busy, I run food for the servers. Friday I ran 2 matzoh ball soups to the community table for Henry, and I inadvertently spilled a little bit on this one guy, and Gary was standing right there. I mean 2 feet away from me, and it was he who pointed it out to me that I was slowly dribbling soup on this guy's lap. Well, I was mortified. I know it's so silly, but I felt so guilty and stupid and ashamed, like I had disappointed someone I really care about. I didn't want Gary to be mad at me, but he was. He gave me the meanest look and I felt like punching myself for being so clumsy. (The guy was fine by the way, he wasn't burned or mad or anything, thank god). But Gary was standoffish for the rest of the day. I was fine though, until Mike. Mike was the new manager in training, and I knew him for 2 days, which does not give him joking rights. But he thought he would make a joke about it and say "Oh, well I guess you'll just never be a server!" And then he continued to crack up for several minutes right in front of me. THAT was what made me want to cry. What he said was ringing in my ears for the next 2 hours or so, mocking me and the fact that am just a lowly counter person. So all of my ridiculous hormonal girl emotions are running high and I'm thinking I'm going to be nothing but a counter person for the rest of my life. Then servers started to notice I was upset and started asking me what was wrong. Which, when you ask an already emotional and upset girl what's wrong, you're just egging on more emotions and making that girl want to open up and cry. So there I am, polishing silverware, trying to not make eye contact and attempting to hold back tears. Thank god for Jen who warded off people trying to console me. If it weren't for her, I would have had a nervous breakdown right there, behind...the counter. Ugh. Of course, later on in the day, I finally ask Gary, "Are you mad at me?" And he said, "Why?" He didn't even remember! Well I sighed a huge sigh of relief. I told him about the soup and that I felt bad, and he said the guy could have been burned, and I said he wasn't and you can't play the 'what if' game. So that's what I'm trying not to do now--not to play that 'what if' game. "What if I am on counter forever? Or at least for what feels like forever?" I can't do that, because I know that I won't be, and I just have to have patience with myself and trust myself to build a better life for me over this next year. And that's what I'm going to do.