I wrote this letter to my mom last week and it turned into what might be a manifesto. A couple of months ago I took a three Tuesdays a month gig tending bar. I did it to keep up my skills and stay connected to the front line of service. I was looking for something to help me stay current but I got something else, too.
I've been watching Breaking Bad a lot recently, along with a bunch of Mad Men and it seems at least for men all that matters in the world sometimes is being happy doing what you love.
So tired yesterday when I finally got out of work, plus just overworked around the retirement home; all the residents get grumpy during Passover...then again actually everyone kind of laments Passover, I'm sorry and don't mean to offend but anyone who knows about it will agree: its a monumental pain in the ass.
We build tents for Sukkot, which is in the Fall. You're catching on! :) Anyway, got home from work at the retirement home at 645pm, and walked next door to work the bar before 7pm, straight up punchy tired. The bar got busy with friends and neighbors at 8pm, and then a post concert crowd came in around 10pm, good cool people.
I could not have been happier, laughing, joking and making drinks for everyone. I like to entertain, I like knowing what people need before they do. And I'm really fucking good at it.
I'm successful and happy these days because I absolutely love the HR, the scheduling and managing my big crazy staff of waiters at the Summit. Because I make (mostly) a lot of otherwise cranky old farts happy, run a smooth floor and because a few times a month after I'm done there I rock a party at the bar next door. So many friends show up that if there's someone at the bar who isn't part of the our circle, they leave that way.
It took a long time to be OK with being so into Hospitality, all the vaguely negative letters from grandparents, "you don't really want to be just a waiter, now do you?"
Yep, I do.