(no subject)
I’m tired. It’s been eight hours of serving overpriced steaks to a bunch tourists who are dumbstruck by the beauty in front of them. The summertime in this part of town smells of synthetic foods: cotton candy, candied apples, kettle corn, that type of thing. The bright neon signs light up every corner of the strip. They put a warm focus on each passerby. Everyone seems happy. Up here I’m clearing my last table of the night and looking at the natural wonder that draws people to this city. A lot of customers have remarked on how lucky I am to work in an environment with such an awe inspiring view. The truth is that I don’t notice it anymore. I imagine it’s a lot like being married to a supermodel. Eventually the novelty of it just wares off…but I don’t tell them that. I tell them that I am lucky to work in an environment with such an awe inspiring view and then I smile really big because that’s what gets me paid.
I started out in this restaurant by washing dishes in the back. Now, on a good night, I can take in a couple of hundred dollars. I flirt with the hostesses and the management adores me. Customers tip me extremely well. I am really good at my job but I’m worried about it. It’s worries me in same way that I’m worried about losing my hair and gaining my fathers waistline. I might be bound to these things despite my best efforts not to be. I might be stuck in a place that everyone else is just passing through. What I can’t decide about tourist towns is if they change people, or if they make them stay exactly the same as they always were.
You can’t explain these things to people who aren’t from here and half the people who live here don’t understand it.
I started out in this restaurant by washing dishes in the back. Now, on a good night, I can take in a couple of hundred dollars. I flirt with the hostesses and the management adores me. Customers tip me extremely well. I am really good at my job but I’m worried about it. It’s worries me in same way that I’m worried about losing my hair and gaining my fathers waistline. I might be bound to these things despite my best efforts not to be. I might be stuck in a place that everyone else is just passing through. What I can’t decide about tourist towns is if they change people, or if they make them stay exactly the same as they always were.
You can’t explain these things to people who aren’t from here and half the people who live here don’t understand it.