Sometimes a Kind Word or Just Listening Goes Further Than You Think

Do you get to know your server during the holidays?

One of my part-time jobs for three years was at The Cheesecake Factory. My full-time day jobs during that time were temp to hire, always with a promise that never came to fruition. Since this was during the time of the Global Financial Crisis, companies were taking advantage of hiring people as temps with empty promises, which gave them the upper hand of not having to provide medical benefits or paid time off.

Lyrical words slice through me

I remember sitting in my cubicle at work, hearing my coworkers talking about what they had planned for their paid holidays with family and friends. I smiled and responded in a positive and supportive way, but every word sliced through me. Not only would I not be paid for those holidays that the office was closed, which meant a smaller paycheck, but I would be working my part-time job to make up for the monetary loss, so I wouldn’t be spending much time with my three kids, to whom I was the only parent.

At work, people at some tables were kind and recognized me as a human, and I was glad for the additional tips. Other patrons seemed oblivious to the fact that my income was barely more than $4.00/hour, and we had to rely on tips to survive. Furthermore, we were required to give a certain percentage of our sales to the bar, bussers, and food runners for the night, regardless of how good our tips were or weren’t. Sometimes I lucked out, and a table would ask me why I was working so late on Christmas Eve or if I had kids, and I would eagerly respond that I had three little kids waiting for me at home and give a bright smile.

Secretly, I hoped that a nice tip would be waiting for me when I cleared their table later. Sometimes there was, sometimes not. Frequently I had the same sleeve-grabbing, “hey, lady” behaviors that I received any other time of year. Sometimes tips were abysmal because people would outright admit they only brought enough for the meal and nothing else because they were wiped out from shopping and just needed to treat themselves to a meal, so they wouldn’t have to cook. That was a drawback of being attached to the mall.

Nothing but the truth

Can you imagine if any of my tables knew my whole truth? Here it was: because my psychopathic husband had killed his employers, my three young children and I were suddenly left destitute, deeply in debt, and homeless. We had to move halfway across the country and now shared a room in my mom’s drafty home. I was working two jobs to pay off my husband’s debt so I could maintain my excellent credit so one day we could have a house, so I was rarely home with my kids. I would’ve done anything to provide a great Christmas for my kids. That was our reality. Instead, I put on a smile and simply said that I had three little kids waiting for me at home.

At both my day job and my evening job, words and actions hurt. I still remember the way I felt all those years ago. I understand that people just wanted to share, and they had wonderful things going on in their lives, which is why I responded with smiles of support.

However, I’m now careful about what I say and always deliberately listen to others. I am aware that practicing patience and kindness to an already overworked server makes a world of difference. I understand servers may rely on tips to pay their essential living expenses if that’s their only job or if they work two server jobs. Tipping well helps balance out the folks at a nearby table who aren’t in the know. It might just make someone’s day because you may not know their whole story.

This is in response to this wonderful prompt from Chelsea Marie:

If you’ve ever worked in retail (or as a courier, etc.) during the holidays, describe the people or events that help to get you through the days. What do you wish more customers or clients would do to make your hard jobs a little bit more joyful?

Prompts help build, brick by brick, piece by piece, the stage where we can tell our stories.