south of here
I was thinking back to my previous job at Rico's. I happened across of picture taken inside the place. felt a giant sense of nostalgia. when i first started working there it was the beginning of summer after my first year in college. I had just happened to walk in and fill out an application handed to me by, who i learned later, was the owner. i started training two days later, learning taco, burrito and enchilada combinations, nachos, what can be added, what couldn't be, how to make a margarita and various other drinks. after a month or two, i had gotten pretty used to everything and was working a consistent number of doubles--shit, i didn't have anything else to do with my time. i remember the dead of summer, blistering heat, wearing khaki shorts and the shortest sleeves i could get away with (before they started requiring uniformed shirts) and the AC in the restaurant, which was already weak, completely gave up and submerged everyone, servers and kitchen, into an unbearably moist heat that no one could escape from. us servers took turns standing in the walk-in cooler to cool off. i started soaking a rag in ice water and putting in on the back of my neck. after most days of work, we'd all sit around a communal area and enjoy a beer that chela would give us. I'd show up early for lunches and get a breakfast with the kitchen crew, usually consisting of scrambled eggs with chorizo, rice, beans and corn tortillas. it was a nice time. it was simple. i could understand how easy it was to get stuck down there with the good 'ol boys looking for a good time in a pitcher of beer or trying to ease off a day of working under a car or on a roof. there were also plenty of families that lived nearby and loved the margaritas and enjoyed chatting with all us servers. hell, a lot of customers could tell you more about a few servers than i could.
it's so odd to me how a single picture puts me right back to that first hot, humid summer that i worked so hard, made some money and some good times. it's instantaneous, even. that same summer i discovered my love of karaoke. i wouldn't trade those memories for anything.
at the same time though, what would i be doing if i hadn't had the option to leave? yes, the option. the only reason i was able to see past the beauty of the simplicity of it all was because i was going to a school that forced me out of it. i can tell that others find themselves there and only there, unchallenged and unforced out into the greater world, lulled into a nostalgic sense of the south. this lack of exposure and of options limits the views of the people and ultimately keeps them sequestered in that place, not demanding more of their own lives. it's unfortunate, to me, that people get stuck. sure, it's a choice...sort of, i mean think about it, when you don't have anything else anywhere else, why leave?
it's so odd to me how a single picture puts me right back to that first hot, humid summer that i worked so hard, made some money and some good times. it's instantaneous, even. that same summer i discovered my love of karaoke. i wouldn't trade those memories for anything.
at the same time though, what would i be doing if i hadn't had the option to leave? yes, the option. the only reason i was able to see past the beauty of the simplicity of it all was because i was going to a school that forced me out of it. i can tell that others find themselves there and only there, unchallenged and unforced out into the greater world, lulled into a nostalgic sense of the south. this lack of exposure and of options limits the views of the people and ultimately keeps them sequestered in that place, not demanding more of their own lives. it's unfortunate, to me, that people get stuck. sure, it's a choice...sort of, i mean think about it, when you don't have anything else anywhere else, why leave?