Sometimes, taking the first job offered is not a brilliant career move.
If, on day two, the triple management threat is telling you to clean better and sell more food, you clean better and try to sell more food.
If, on day five, the triple threat tells you sales are down in the bar but up in the hotel over this time last year, and, “You have big shoes to fill–your predecessor was amazing,” you try to focus and sell more food.
If, on day seven, you are absolutely sure your immediate and wonderful manager is looking for his next job on Craigslist as much as you are, you second guess this gut feeling and tell yourself you simply need to suck it up and do better at tending a bar you must constantly leave in order to tackle server side and prep work in the kitchen as you sell more food.
If, on day eight, your normally busy and focused immediate and wonderful manager is doing crosswords and texting in his office as you close, just after humorously pointing out to you that the triple management threat has conveyed to him how, “That bartender got complaints from guests last night for being slow with drinks,” even though you rang a record high in sales, you bookmark Craigslist when you get home and drink half a bottle of cheap wine.
If, on day ten, you are offered another job that you are certain you can do well–all except the part about carrying trays and jacks, since its been years since you had to carry a tray full of food in any formal fashion, and you are pretty sure the new bosses will find this to be a problem, even though they hired you on the spot after you explained this major deficiency in your hospitality experience, you accept the job while desperately pounding the pavement to find another so you don’t actually have to take it.
If, on day eleven, you give notice, saying to your immediate and wonderful manager, “I have found something that is a better fit for me,” and he laughs with you while congratulating you, and then adds, “I’m out in a week, too,” you know you made the right decision to leave, but feel terrified that the next show will be an equal disaster.
If, on day twelve, you apply for a job on Craigslist that requires a photo to be attached to your resume, and you actually do this, you might want to question two things: Am I actually a restaurant gal or just a washed-up, never-was in this entire business?
On day twelve, I am tired, burned to a crisp, much deflated, and not quite sure what is next except I start the next job next week if I can’t find something else by then. I need a big win at Gulfstream.