I guess if you work as a server in an airport it may as well be in the world's busiest, and that's where I landed! (small pun)
It's been crazy busy lately (a good thing) but even after almost two years, see something or someone bizarre almost every single shift.
At the airport manager's meeting this past week, had forecast a slow down for Saturday and Sunday. I was okay with that, my bones needed some rest and all my bills were paid. It was kinda slow when I went on the floor at three fifteen and regretted thinking it would be okay if it was. There's nothing which makes a shift longer than watching paint dry. It's just the way I'm geared and if I'm working have to be doing something. All the younger staff doesn't mind doing nothing and quite a few excel at it.
I stocked and cleaned everything I could and then settled on folding linens. All the servers poke fun at me because of how fastidious I am about it. I fold the napkins for tables precisely and alternate them in the stack I fold so they end up being a level stack. Then I put them in the linen cabinet in the most perfect order. Four stacks across, all the way to the top and always with the top napkin with the folded side down. Then when the cabinet is perfect and full as a tick I go get an empty box and begin to fold more napkins in precisely the same way and fill it to store them in the bottom of the huge liquor cage we lock all the booze bottles in when we close. I folded over two hundred by seven o'clock and yes they all looked perfect!
It's crazy, I'm nowhere near a neat freak at home but when someone is paying me to do a job I turn into "Anal Lady". Everything has to be neat and tidy, in it's proper place and done the correct way.
By seven o'clock felt like it should have been at least nine thirty but was still light outside so knew it wasn't even eight.
They finally cut three servers from the floor as travelers dribbled in. I had my MOJO working and the few tables I had really liked me. I had an elderly gentleman sit at one of my tables speaking broken English. Heck, with my southern accent it was a hit or miss conversation.
"Beer" seems to be a globally known word. I ask if they want draft by acting like I am pulling the tap handle forward or bottle by seeming to pop a cap off.
He had a draft, and after going small or tall with one hand down and the other up going from four inches apart to ten inches apart learned he wanted a tall one.
He looked tired but after some small mixed language talk learned he had traveled half the globe in the past week. He had some cured meats and cheeses, one tall beer and paid his tab. I told him it was slow in the restaurant so to sit as long as he wanted.
Then this happened.
Old dude crashed like a freight train that jumped the tracks. Several tables were looking at him and chuckling.
After twenty minutes couldn't resist a photo opp. I really wanted to sit opposite of him and act like I was chatting away with him, boring him to death.
Then I thought about posting "Boring the Bern" but finally settled on this one. I would have never taken this pic if he had been smashed. He was just (as we say in the south) "Wore slap out" and after being given the go ahead from me to sit as long as he wanted simply crumbled.
At least I didn't take the pic when he semi woke up and simply put his head on the table and rested for twenty more minutes.
After that it started in earnest. Before I knew it had seven tables at once and all six tops or more. I waited on peeps from Brazil, Norway and Amsterdam. Before I knew it was ten o'clock and we were closed.
I truly love this job, it's beyond awesome but taxing when done five days a week at my age.
It starts from fighting for a good spot to park near the shuttle bus or elevator in the parking deck to getting through security quickly.
Working at International is a world different from any I've ever known but has been a hoot (as we also say in the south) and knowing I only have six more months left make it much easier to deal with.
On top of everything else it's done for me has let Massey experience things and opened her world to the entire planet...literally.
Like I said before, if you gotta work at an airport, why not make it the world's busiest?
It's been an awesome run and glad my daughter got to make it with me.
When a professional server like me, it's just sales and marketing.
Our mentor said it best on his last day with us.
I've finally found what I'm best at selling, and it's myself.
I may not be a Kardashian, a Real House Wife, a Dance Mom or even Honey Boo Boo but a pretty decent person who thinks if I continue to be, will go far beyond my wildest expectations and at the age of way over half way done with my life feel pretty stinking good about what I've been lucky enough to accomplish with a little help from my friends.