C'est La Vie!

 Today I found out either 1. why working as a waitress in Queenstown is shit, or 2. that I'm just not suited to work in any restaurant that happens to serve fondue. It's probably an intricate combination of both.

I arrived at my trial at Les Alpes a few minutes before 5pm and met with Steven, the floor manager. He suited me up in a white button-down frilly shirt and a long tan bistro apron and introduced me to the table numbers and menu. Cheerful as he seemed at times, very rare times, he seemed like he certainly had a chip on his shoulder, ascertained when he told me he had been working there a year and was more than happy to leave asap which is why they were looking to hire someone. I was introduced to Jess, and was assigned to be working with her in the back section of the restaurant near the fireplace. Originally the plan was to follow her for a few tables and then take a few of my own. Little goes according to plan in restaurants.

I met Cody from Michigan who had done several other jobs in the restaurant before recently starting as a waiter. Basically everyone who works there is French, or possibly American – his voice and mannerisms at the table sounded quite familiar to me as far as a restaurant setting goes, but sounded out of place in our current environment. Gavin, the bar man and barista, was from England, and quite sociable as well, him being my favorite of the bunch, quite friendly and helpful, more so than anyone else.

Before our tables started filling up I was to polish the plates with white vinegar, a menial task that seemed largely inconsequential as far as the cleanliness and appearance of the plates, but at least I was looking busy and it wasn't terribly draining. After a while of waiting and being introduced to the way things were run I asked Gavin to make me a coffee, after having seen Jess make one for Cody and Gavin having made one for one of the cooks. I asked him for his specialty and he made me a delicious mochaccino, with drinking chocolate mixed in with the espresso shot, topped with foam, poured in such a way as to produce a swirly pattern that I myself would be hard-pressed to reproduce.

I just happened to take the cup from him and went to move it to a less obvious spot back in the kitchen when our first table of customers walked in and Jess sat them in our section. After taking a sip of my drink I took a step outside the kitchen, to be told by Steven to stay with Jess. Thus started the wave of everything going wrong, not terribly wrong mind you – I truly thought they would keep me on even just to not have to explain everything all over again to everyone who dropped off their CV – but apparently they were looking for someone who just fit in a bit better. I'll save time and my sanity by not whinging about every little thing that wasn't quite right, but sometimes two things just don't fit together.

I did have a pleasant time working at the restaurant, and as Steven said at the end of the night, I was a bit lost. Though I'm always keen to help out my fellow servers and do what's necessary, I'm not used to waiting on the entire restaurant, and maybe I wasn't supposed to, because I was finding things here and there to help out with, and trying to take the initiative without doing something wrong. After the first two tables the restaurant got quite busy, and I was trying to greet guests and take orders, while still learning how things are done, and the hour of chaos, as most restaurants have during their peak period, was not the best learning environment.

Similarly, I felt that the restaurant itself wasn't the best environment for me. I knew that it would be a lot of hard work, especially during the 2-3 peak and prep hours, for not much hourly pay, and apparently they don't give a staff meal, other than some junk the kitchen throws together around 3pm. The only food I got to try was some left over mushroom and classic fondue that I saw Steven stuffing his face with and asked if I could have a taste as well. I'm quite certain that having the coffee and “tasting” some of the fondue wasn't the best impression I could have made, but honestly Steven didn't make a good impression on me either, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to be compensated for the trial. It was kind of a mutual not giving a shit, though I was sort of hoping I would be hired, work a few shifts, and then leave if I didn't like it.

I find it a bit ironic that I'm being rejected from the jobs I normally do in America, both ski instruction and waitressing, but maybe it's the fact that I know I do a good job at what I do and I won't settle for working my professions for shit money in shit conditions, and much like the try outs at Coronet, I don't think my heart was in this either. I think it's a great experience to be working in the office and babysitting as well. The office job is giving me a new perspective on things, and I still think it may land me something in one of the bars, though I'm not sure I'd be happy bartending full time in this town either, and babysitting pays very very well. It's like the office job equates to ski instruction in Park City and babysitting equates to restaurant work since the pay is so good.

It always feels a bit rough being rejected from something, but the thing that I get worked up about is that they really didn't appreciate the four and a half hours of hard work that I did put in. Then again, at least it was only four and a half hours, for quite a sound learning experience, and an evening of personal entertainment. Really, what else was I going to do on a Tuesday? Oh yeah, sit in bed here and play some video games to relax – I better get on that. Ciao!