Showing posts with label really?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label really?. Show all posts

Thursday, September 11, 2008

If this is what feminism means, count me out.

I have been really bitter at the waitressing job as of late. I have allowed the resentment of being an "older" waitress affect my inexistent relationship with the owners, i.e., I feel like the owner (despite his $10 tip on chocolate cake and glass of milk) and his cronies waltz in the restaurant with nothing more than a shifty glance in my direction. I take this personally because I am a hard worker with a good work ethic, not to mention a degree from a university, I am officially "in my thirties," and I still wait tables. Which means to me that many people assume I'm a loser? I don't know. The fact is I enjoy serving. It's easy, it's exercise, and it's my human need for socialization taken care of so I can go home and hole up to play banjo and write. Hence, when the "higher-ups" at my weekend job come in and can't bring themselves to introduce themselves to me or thank me for the job I do (except in the ultra-impersonal memo included with my paycheck this week - "I enjoy working with all of you" types a manager. When have you ever worked with me? I see you stand around watching me work sometimes. I say hi to you first - every time.), it kinda makes me feel unimportant and under-appreciated and affects my morale and makes me want to be an asshole to the customers - or your family - that patronize your shithole.

Which brings us to Sunday. The owner's family (not the owner, but his wife, kids, and assorted other women) came in to eat. They were demanding - in that offensively sickly sweet Minnesota way - of things that aren't on the menu, making their preteen daughter approach me from across the restaurant for things like pens or extra tomatoes, and didn't say a word to me about who they were. Now, I agree, it shouldn't matter who they are. I should give them excellent customer service no matter what. But the fact that the Manager On Duty (MOD) told me as an aside, "That's Gary's family," and they didn't bother to introduce themselves or ask my name, but just acted like they were the only table I had in the restaurant and because they literally owned the place it was their own personal kitchen - this is what made me angry. I am so spoiled from my old job, where the owner was on site and always had a smile and a hug for her employees. Corporate fucks have no idea what creates morale - they just send a memo with "it's so great to work with you." Ugh, Fuck you.

So, back to Sunday (yeah, I'm not even to the meat of this story): The owner's family is there. Another table comes in - two women and a man. They sit down, I greet them, all is good. I come back a minute or two later, "Hey guys, can I get you some grub?" or whatever cute thing I come up with. And the older woman, probably late 50s, early 60s, says to me, "We LADIES would like something and this GUY would like something else." I am baffled for a second, "okay, what'll it be?" She continues: "You said, 'Hey guys,' but we are ladies." But knowing me and my bitter, affected disposition, I was not having this bullshit conversation about semantics, so I engaged them in a short talk about words, context, and being on the receiving end of words and how that affects their meaning. I made the loose argument that words have no inherent meaning, it's the context and it depends on who is hearing the words. I almost made the argument to this woman and the man, who were black, that if someone called them the N-word, their reaction would be very different from mine if I was called that. Of course, I wasn't about to take it there. The woman brushed me off, "well, you're just a young Minnesota woman, you don't know what we went through," or something to that effect, implying that I didn't appreciate what the women of my mother's generation did for women of my generation around women's rights, etc (which, btw, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but, uh, the ERA never passed, girlfriend). So then I called her on her assumption that I was Minnesotan, correcting her that I was from New York City (which I think makes me sound like a bad-ass) and California before that. After a minute or two of this inappropriate conversation for which I will totally take responsibility of stoking, I just took their order and then went in the back near the dishwasher to complain to the MOD about this inane transaction. Apparently, she has given shit to other servers in the past about this "hey guys" bullshit. So, I finish my conversation with the MOD as I leave the back area, enter the dining area, and finishing my sentence with "it's semantics, it's a waste of energy."

Not a minute later did I need another clue that she had heard me, as she came up to the MOD and said something to him ("it's NOT semantics and it's NOT a waste of energy"), then gathered her party for departure from the restaurant. Don't forget, Gary's family had been there the whole time and so Gary's wife gets up to assuage the woman, who gets increasingly incensed. I see that there's a scene starting and I'm no dummy - I know what I did wrong. So I approach the table to offer my sincere apologies and take responsibility for my unprofessionalism. The woman does not take kindly to that at all, she is here to PROVE A POINT! And she says to me, "You would have never said that to the feminists in NEW YORK!" And I knee-jerk-ly retort, "I AM a feminist." And she screams "NO YOU'RE NOT! OR YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND WHY I DON'T WANT TO BE CALLED A GUY!!!" Etc, etc, she leaves the restaurant claiming she'll never come back (please?), etc, etc, the owner's family turns up the sickly sweetness with me for the rest of their stay, etc, etc, I cry in the back because I'm upset over a lot of other shit too, and I don't lose my job (mostly because the shithole can't afford to lose employees).

If feminism is about trying to set people straight about not being called a "guy," then I want no part of it. I admit it was super super unprofessional of me to talk about a customer within earshot - I know this from over a decade in customer service. Sunday was like a manifestation of all the bad energy in my life from all directions. I almost wished I was fired so that I didn't have to make the eventual, inevitable decision to quit (although I am happy I don't have to look for another "save $" job). But I think a lot of 2nd wave Feminists would agree that tackling the misnomer greeting "hey guys" is so low on the priority list of women's rights, especially in modern times when the slang has just become accepted as a unisex salutation. The MOD did point out that the woman had a bit of an androgynous look to her, so maybe she was just sensitive about being mistaken for a man, which is no fun no matter what your gender. I'm just saying, if she had chosen her battles correctly, none of this shit would have happened. Meh. I guess I could have not gone into work either. And could have kept my mouth shut. Lesson learned. NEXT!