Tessie D

I worked again last night on the floor from five until closing. I am not training any more so I have my own tables and can keep all my tips, which, I’m not going to lie, are pretty great. I don’t have to take customers’ orders because they go through the line before being seated. All I have to do is bring them fresh bread and their orders when they come up in the window, refill their drinks, bus their dirty dishes when they’re done, and then clean the table. Since half of the work is already done by the time they sit down, we don’t have as many waitresses so I have a lot of tables in my section. Alec said that Mondays are slow so during the rush I had at most five or six tables at one time, but he said on the weekends, it can be as many as ten or twelve. 

Still, if every table leaves $2 and I turn over my section three or four times a shift, I might have twenty-something tables a night. That’s usually about $50, just on a slow night. In cash. Last night, it was $56 because an older gentleman sitting by himself left me a $5. If I close, then I make $4.25/hour on top of that, and it’s not bad—just sweeping, wiping down all the tables, refilling the salt, pepper, and ketchup. We close at 9:00, and I took me an hour last night so I was out at 10:00. 

I still can’t believe it: $60.25 for 5 hours of work. I’ve never had that much money of my own in my entire life. 

I came home and went straight to my room and hid the money in the bottom dresser drawer. I know that I should probably give some of it to Momma and Daddy, but I just couldn’t yet. I wanted to hold on to it for a little while. It’s the first money I’ve ever earned. I’m proud of myself and, if I have to admit it, a little mad. 

I know this might not make any sense, but all I could think when I was driving home was, “That was it? That’s all it takes?” You find a job, go to work, and make money. We’ve struggled so much over the years with bills and never having enough money. And, seriously, that’s all it took? Find a job and go to work. I know that $56 isn’t a lot of money, but it’s something. More than Daddy made yesterday, that’s for sure. Yeah, he probably could make more if he got a real job, but he hasn’t gotten one. He hasn’t even tried in years. He just lets us struggle because he can’t find a job that pays enough to make it worth his time. Meanwhile, even working a few hours in the evening waiting tables pays something. Why hasn’t he even done something in all these years? 

I feel like a weight has been lifted that I didn’t know was there. Years of frustration and anxiety, living without any money and knowing that there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Thinking that this was just the way it would always be. 

But, it’s not. It never had to be this way. I never want to feel that heavy weight again. I never want to feel powerless and weak like that ever again. Especially when I know that I can do something about it. I can make my own money.