The sober waitress
Navigating my job newly sober and some pointers of how I manage to stay serene even in the midst of the crazy.
Working in a restaurant in the throws of addiction is the ultimate hideout.
No one suspects there’s much wrong with you, unless you’re seizing-out mid-shift or caught with missing money on a regular basis.
Even then, it’s hard to come across as the problem child. Most of my former co-workers have made questionable decisions time and again without any serious consequences.
It’s probably the only job you can ever guarantee a serious offence will get swept under the rug unless you’re a repeat offender.
This is how my addiction was tolerated for so many years, away from the public eye. I fit in just like everyone else in the land of misfit toys.
Coming to work with a buzz or severe hangover was easily cured by the bartender slipping you a shot or a co-worker giving you a bump from their somehow still full bag of blow.
When faced with working in the food and beverage industry as a sober person I thought the task was impossible. How could one first survive in an industry so frustrating, dealing with customers and negativity without needing a vice to come down after the shift. And second, how could I fit in among my fellow workers without partaking in the mid-shift or after work “happenings” to make our night seem a little bit more joyous manageable.
The first position I landed, was after being forced to walk the streets the day after I arrived in rehab. Still dope-sick, sweating profusely, draped in oversized dress clothes that I’d borrowed from the thrift store, pupils dilated to the size of quarters, and a sudden panic that was audible anytime I would speak to someone I didn’t know. Luckily, the restaurant I interviewed at had a man I knew from my using days. He was also attending the same rehab and gave a me a good reference. For of course, if you didn’t know me, I’m a “big deal” around my hometown with a famous name. My family has created an empire of restaurants with my last name attached to them. I lived and breathed this business and now in the middle of nowhere, in the condition I was in, all of that sounded like a joke so needing someone to back me up was a necessity!
The bistro I began working at was unlike anywhere I had worked before. There was no bar, it held about twenty tables, a tiny little kitchen without a hot window, and the servers did all the work. We had no bussers, no food runners, no bartender… there was no need. The spot was family run and had a reputation of hiring people out of the same rehab I was in. About half the employees were part of the “asylum” (as we called it), the other half were normal folk with the same kind of restaurant vibe. There were many regulars that I came to know quickly and because of the location and reputation they knew the deal. Many would commend us on trying to turn our lives around and relate to people they knew who were doing the same.
My anxiety had the best of me for the first few weeks. I was a server by trade, I knew how to do this job with my eyes closed but never sober. Even when I was younger I would come to work and need to pop a pill just to get through. Talking to people was my biggest affliction. So getting in the groove in my newly discovered body and clearer mind was difficult.
There was a big air force base in town which supported a lot of the clientele we found sitting in our seats. Many were men and good looking, which made my newly sober self even more anxious as I mumbled and loathed trying to banter with each table. I wore a red face as though I had a permanent sunburn, unable to hide my angst as I blushed when anyone would speak to me. I was a waitress, this is my job, how could someone be so nervous to speak to individuals when it’s the main part of the job description? Nevertheless I powered through. Sometimes nervously running away from customers, mid-sentence, in fear of not knowing how to respond. Finding some excuse to always walk away or if I got trapped just pretending with all my might that I enjoyed the conversation.
My rides to work were accompanied by the pit in my stomach of what situation I would run across that day, dreaming of being anywhere but there and hoping to make some cash regardless.
Being in recovery isn’t a walk in the park either. When on property, we were faced with many tasks involving deep dives into our past, confronting ourselves more and more as time went on. This rehab was not full of massages and yoga, we didn’t sit outside and meditate while singing Kumbaya. We were in a place that required you to work, go to meetings, keep clean, and work the 12 steps to have a spiritual awakening. It was intense to say the least.
This didn’t help my anxiety when having to show up to work and being expected to leave my “baggage” at the door. The days were rough, and the masks I wore got harder to hide behind. There would be progress of coming out of my shell then to be followed by regression as I found new parts of me I wasn’t ready to face.
I stayed at that restaurant for four years. Had many regulars. Learned to keep my blushing at bay and could mingle with the best of them even if everything inside of me didn’t want to. I lost the training wheels and learned to ride on my own. Becoming comfortable in that restaurant was the one of the hardest battles I ended up defeating and then as quick as I noticed my progress it was time to move on.
I moved home the end of my fourth year in that town. I was pregnant and we needed to find a change and knew better money would be made closer to home. This was a big leap heading back to my stomping grounds, into the den of where it all began.
Part of me felt again like this would be an impossible task. The restaurant world I grew to love wouldn’t be the small quaint family dining experience. We would be stepping into the party town, filled with tourists and complaints, lucky to see a regular or two that would come for the company rather than someone trying to use up their coupons. It would be rare to find co-workers that were sober and I was certain I’d have many struggles I had yet to face.
The restaurant I came back to was new for me. Still part of the family business but I had only dined there as a child. On a busy night over 500 people would be served, 12 servers would be working, two huge bars, and it was right in the midst of all I had wanted to avoid in my new found sobriety.
I started again as a trembling mess, this time a little more confident in my body than I had been years prior. Learning new menu items, the lay of the land, the people I’d be working beside, and shielding myself from anything throwing me off my path.
Luckily I was pregnant so before I had to dive into my personal life, offering me drinks or drugs was off the table. I think the universe knew what it was doing because that saved a lot of questioning in the beginning.
Shift after shift, I would watch the shenanigans as if I were a spy. I’d see the shots mid-shift, I’d watch as two or three people would disappear into the bathrooms, I’d overhear the gossip of the night before, and the slapping of hands with a little treat being passed as if they were coping in an alleyway. I was a wallflower witnessing the parts of me in the past that lived on through my fellow workers in the future.
As time went on I confided in almost everyone as the conversations would eventually lead there. It wasn’t a secret but something I chose to enlighten people of at the correct time. It benefitted me to do so and still does to this day. It’s been almost six years that I’ve worked in that same restaurant and still people offer me shots even after I’ve told them I’m almost ten years sober. It isn’t their problem to bear and I don’t blame them for it. I thank them for including me and go about my way.
Below I have listed of some hacks that have helped me throughout my journey to keep safe and sober minded in the unpredictable valley of restaurant-hood. Take what resonates and leave the rest:
Don’t linger after work. As innocent as it sounds and as much as you’d like to get to know your coworkers there is always another time that doesn’t have to include a bar. Going out with your coworkers on a different day could be harmless but after work is for drowning out the days troubles not for getting to know each other.
Don’t partake in the gossip. It’s easy to be swept away by people’s personal lives, hearing the absurd things people have to say about the rest of the staff. I’ve participated in my fair share of gossiping but it does no one any good especially you. Listen with an open ear but don’t share and don’t add to the madness. People are people and we all deserve kindness.
You don’t need to share your story if you don’t want to. It’s been helpful to me but it’s also ok to just say you don’t drink. People don’t need to know your backstory but a simple “no thanks” will suffice.
GRATITUDE goes a long way. There’s nothing worse than dreading being at work day after day. I know because I’ve been there. Being grateful for having a job and making money no matter the amount is essential to keep on going.
Have fun doing the unconventional. Working in a restaurant has its perks. Easy money, flexibility, and a unique environment. It isn’t a 9-5 so try to have fun. The toxicity is palpable in that place at times, being grateful and bringing some lightness can turn a dreadful evening into a fun workday.
Live and let live. Allow people to be themselves!!! Sometimes this practice will open the door for people to come to you when they are in need. I used to want to save people from ruining their lives but instead I remain available if, and when, people need some help.
Go the extra mile. I work with a lot of people who do the bare minimum and with a lot of people who do much more than their job description. The latter is contagious, if you do a little extra it makes you feel more valuable in your position which in turn reflects back. Drinking and drugging is an isolating disease, so finding where we fit is huge in recovery. If you add value to your place of work than you feel essential to the environment.
Lastly, it’s ok to move on if it doesn’t suit you. So many times I’ve been told that if I don’t feel ok in a certain job setting than it’s something I personally need to walk through. Duped into believing that it is a pattern that will continue to arise where ever my feet land next. It’s very easy to sit in the uncomfortable comfortably, I’ve done it many times and perhaps I’m doing it now. When it comes to guarding your sobriety that should take precedence over all else. It’s ok to make a change, the universe has your back in whatever you decide.
The restaurant industry isn’t for everyone and is not a place I’d recommend newly sober people to find refuge. I happened to be extremely lucky to have an environment to get my toes wet in and now can work minimally at a place I feel safe. I keep in touch with my sober community frequently and have come to them with situations I felt iffy in. But I keep showing up and this experience has continued to show me that I can do anything in sobriety!
Please feel free to comment about your experiences in the restaurant industry, sober or not.
How do you stay positive?
Why do you keep showing up?
If you are sober, is it difficult for you to be around an atmosphere not designed for people like us?
Tell me your thoughts and thank you for reading mine!
I love this because it correlates with my experience with friendships, as crazy as this sounds. My family and friends drank as I did so I could camouflage my behavior. When I re-entered my community I had to learn to as a sober woman. It’s been over three years for me and I have found my happy medium and where I fit in.
Your rehab sounds like a good one by the way. I like how they mainstreamed you back into your work environment.