Tuesday, June 3, 2014
This past week I've been borrowing my next door husband's little spare truck. If I have to be there at eight thirty in the morning parking spaces are easy to find. When I go in at one or three it's like scraping the bottom of a barrel that's been emptied and wiped dry.
I've quickly learned to give myself at least fifteen extra minutes to find a space to maneuver the vehicle into. You also learn to follow people walking back towards the lot from the train station hoping to snag their spot. The aisles are so tight and close that you have to pull up, back up, turn in, back up again and repeat the process until you finally inch your way into the space open. I've seen several women who after trying nine or ten times simply give up their attempt and look for another space.
I feel like after these past seven days now seem to have the ability to parallel park an eighteen wheeler.
I finally got a spot when a woman gave up. She even had her son standing outside of the car telling her how much room she had as she pulled in , backed up and repeated the process at least ten times.
I guess that's why parking at the Marta lot is free, they certainly make you earn it!
I was sweating by the time I squeezed the truck into the space but patted myself on my sweaty back for doing it in just three attempts.
Here's another thing about judging how much time to give yourself. So you find a spot to squeeze into. Then you halfway jog to the station because you're eating up those spare minutes you've allowed yourself.
Now that I have my employee Marta card, getting through the turnstile is a piece of cake since I don't have to stop and reload my card. I tap my card and go right through.
Then the next thing that can go wrong sometimes does. You sit down on a bench to wait for the next train which is supposed to stop every few minutes. I mean what are you gonna do if they don't, get up and jog across the highway to the airport?
I waited over ten minutes for a train today, watching the clock eat up more of my "allotted" time.
I finally got on a train to the airport fifty five minutes after leaving my house, less than thirty minutes away.
Don't get me wrong I appreciate parking free and only paying a dollar per ride but rapid transit leaves a lot to be desired, especially when you are headed to the busiest airport in the world.
By the time I caught the international shuttle (which also takes another fifteen minutes) was nearly out of my "allotted" time.
Riding Marta gives me a new perspective on why there are so many incidents, fights or confrontations.
Once the shuttle drops me off at the international terminal it's finally a piece of cake. They drop me right off at the door and less than five minutes later am not only through security but riding the escalator up to the front door of the restaurant, albeit sweating like Mel Gibson in a synagogue.
Then I clock into a job I have no earthly idea how I am going to learn to do in the next seven days with any remote feeling of confidence.
Yep, sounds like this is right up my alley!
Everyone has been extremely nice and am actually learning quite a bit. Hard to believe after being a server for over thirty years there is still something I need to learn. Guess being a server is a REAL job after all!
I had to take two menu tests today. I'm a terrible test taker, freeze up and feel like I've forgotten everything. I only cheated twice, asking a passing server for an ingredient I was missing on a description.
I'm used to working four or five hour shifts but this place is totally different and most shifts are at least eight hours. (another thing to get used to)
When I first got the job thought I was totally out of my league. Now I know I just simply have to step up my game and JOIN the big leagues!
This has been a draining experience but at least am old and wise enough to know "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
I'm gonna be the freakin' "Bionic Woman" by the time this training period is over!
Collapsing into bed and waking up even earlier so I can have time to run a few errands before I head back to the airport and give myself enough time to stop sweating before I clock in.
Til next time...COTTON