You should wait tables. Or maybe, tend bar. You could also work retail, fast food, or have any job where you deal with the general public. I say this not because I see a career for you in any of these jobs, but because I want you to have these experiences.
Why? Because I’ve waited tables, worked in fast food, in a gas station, in a movie theater, in a sandwich shop, and briefly tended bar. And in each of these jobs, I’ve marveled at just how terrible the average person acts towards the people working these jobs.
I want you to be better than that.
I want you to make the effort to treat other humans like humans.
And that’s harder than it sounds.
Tipping is an obvious and easy place to start. Some of the best tippers are former waiters and bartenders. Not because they’re wealthy and can afford to flash their Benjamins, but because they appreciate how hard the job is and how shitty most people are to waiters and bartenders. When you’ve busted your ass to keep a big table happy and been “rewarded” with a 10% tip, you’re more likely to round up when it’s your turn to get the check.
On the subject of tipping, make 15% your tipping floor for adequate service. That’s the bare minimum, so make a habit of going up from there. 20% is a better target, and 25% shouldn’t be out of the question. Especially when you can afford it, and if you can’t afford a decent tip, then you really can’t afford to eat out. If you’re tipping below 15%, you should be able to articulate specifically what the waiter did to deserve your ire. And don’t take your frustrations with the kitchen out on your server. Your waiter didn’t overcook your steak or undercook your chicken; that was the kitchen. If you don’t like your food, believe me when I say that your waiter wants to know, and they want the chance to make it right.
That said, there’s more to this lesson than tipping. If you take nothing else from this entry, remember this: I hope you strive to recognize the humanity and value of every person you meet, every day. And that’s not something you do with money. It’s a good start, but even a nice crisp twenty-dollar-bill can feel dehumanizing when delivered dismissively.
When you work in one of the jobs I listed above, you’ll discover what it feels like to be invisible. People will speak to you like you don’t exist, or like you only exist to serve them. People will snap at you, make unreasonable demands, or be generally shitty. It’s not that people are all cruel, it’s just that most people are so wrapped up in themselves and their own worlds that they don’t bother to engage. It’s not abnormal, I wrote about how hard it is to see outside yourself in Try Not to Be a Dick. And as usual, some people suck, and they’ll take their problems out on people who bring them food and pour them drinks. But most people don’t suck. Most people don’t make the effort to really see people in these roles.
They might see a waiter, a cleaning lady, a driver. But they’re not seeing the actual person doing those jobs. And that’s unfortunate because these people have names, lives, and families.
Don’t take this to mean you have to learn everyone’s life story. Engaging someone can be as simple as making eye contact and smiling. You’ll be surprised how much something that simple means. Sometimes it means looking around the restaurant and realizing that your sever just got three tables at once and is doing the best they can. At three, you’re already very observant, so I’m sure you can manage. That is, assuming you take my advice and try.
Learn names when you can, and ask people if you can use them. Say “please,” and “thank you.” And when someone thanks you, say “you’re welcome.”
Give the people that work around you the benefit of the doubt. Give them grace when they fail and reward their extra effort when they go above and beyond. Most of all, follow these words:
Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
Ian Maclaren
You’ll never see 99% of these battles, and you’ll probably never even know they’re happening. But, your kindness can help every single one of the people fighting these battles, even if only for a moment.
So, be kind.
Be kind to everyone.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.