Can you get me some ketchup when you get the chance? Can I have a couple of extra napkins? Which way to the restroom? So, it’s this way? I asked for over medium eggs not over hard. I said bacon not sausage. My toast was supposed to be well done not light. Instead, can I have a hot chocolate instead of milk? Where is out waitress? My name is Joe party of sixteen, and is there any way we can sit together? Can I pay ten dollars on credit card, twenty dollars cash, and the rest on my debit? We would like separate checks.


These are the dreaded questions that restaurant employees hear on a day-to-day basis. I am presently working at a restaurant and know what it’s like to be on your feet all day, slaving away at the everyday consumer’s needs. Still, I use this job at the restaurant as foundation for a future resume and someday, a career in something much greater. However, it seems that every other employee at the restaurant relies on this job and this job alone. I would love to explore the low-wage life of a restaurant employee and, specifically (if possible), the low-wage life of a restaurant employee where I am employed at.


All women are servers except for one at the restaurant, and there are some hostesses, cooks, managers, and bus boys. I am a hostess and I work alongside two girls my age and a thirty-six year old woman. As a hostess, my job is to greet customers, seat them, and handle the cash register. Of course, I do other side jobs and help out on the same level as a server, just without the “serving” part. The servers are some of the toughest people at the restaurant. They are constantly scratching and clawing for a chance to get a table, always with the annoying remark of “It was my turn next.” It's never their turn next.


These servers are mostly made up of divorcees who have at least one kid, and the older ones working often have boyfriends instead of husbands. I constantly look around to find that I am one of the few who do this as a way of saving money. All of the other servers constantly tell me they are supposed to make a certain amount in the day. One server even said she couldn’t buy her daughter a birthday present.
As I work the cash register handling the money and occasionally having a friendly and somewhat entertaining talk with a customer, I feel gusts of wind go by, and I know for a fact we do not have a draft in the restaurant. We may have mold and the occasional flying termite but definitely no draft. This wind was constructed from the continuous “wooshing” of the servers flying by checking their charge tips, cursing under their breath at the way their customers have or have not rewarded them. Every cent, every dollar means that much more to work with. Don’t get me wrong, not everyone is struggling to the point where they will quit and move, but they are definitely pinching pennies.


The low-wage life in a restaurant, specifically as a waitress/waiter is tough. I can honestly say I have not lived the low-wage life, especially at this job. I am interested in finding out how they manage their life and really find out why they stay at this single job for years and years. I connect with these people in that we both have a restaurant job, but we are both there for completely different reasons.