Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Basque-ing In All the Glory

It's that time again: Time for another tale from your favorite preppy white guy... which is hopefully me and that's why you're here reading this blog.

My situation recently has been that I've had to move back home to Fresno for the summer. If  you've never lived or been to Fresno, CONGRATULATIONS! If you happen to live in Fresno... kudos for making it work for you. I joke, but it's only been since I moved out of Fresno that I've learned to appreciate its prime location (it's basically 3 hours from all the important stuff in CA), and the importance of its agriculture. Prime example: My grandma Abate's homemade peach pie made from our homegrown peaches. If  we didn't live in Fresno, we wouldn't be able to grow the deliciously juicy peaches that make her mouth-watering pie. It's literally better than any store-bought pie you'll ever eat...in your life! I wish I had a picture of it. Instead, I have a picture of our nectarine tree because our peaches aren't ripe yet.
Ignore my finger in the shot...

Anyhoo... in order to save money for rent and other expenses for next school year, I was on the hunt for a job a couple months before I even got home. It's hard to get even a minimum wage job these days, but it's especially hard to get one in Fresno. Unemployment is at an all time high, and that was a depressing fact to face. But luckily God decided to smile upon my poor unemployed but easily trainable soul and I got me a job as a waitress at the Basque Hotel & Restaurant!!! Here's how it happened:

My mother went into the restaurant and asked the bartender if she was still hiring because she didn't want her daughter (me) "lazing around the house all summer." ........ Need I say more? She also let the bartender/owner know that I was only going to be in town for the summer. Now let's go back to the part about how it's insanely difficult to get a job in Fresno. What do you think happens to those odds when your potential employer thinks you're lazy and knows you're only going to be there temporarily? Usually they won't even bother hiring you if they know you're going to cut out of there in 3 months. And she even forgot to tell the lady that I had food service experience because she forgot that I worked at Jamba Juice for 6 months! But despite my mother's lack of the ability to sell my good qualities to my potential employer, I GOT THE JOB! The lady hired me with no experience as a waitress, knowing that I'd only be there temporarily, and with the impression that I was some lazy ass kid. Needless to say, I believe in miracles.

 Here's a picture of the sign outside.


Of course, I was a little nervous about working here for the first time since I'd never been a waitress before, but I was a pretty fast learner. And by the way, there's nothing particularly "Basque-y" about Basque food. It's all pretty normal stuff. You get bread, soup, salad, potato salad, beef stew, beans, the option of a meat (from fried chicken to prime rib), and dessert all for about $12-$20 depending on your main entree. On weekdays they have the "exotic" meats like beef tongue, lamb testicles, and fried pigs feet. I've tried all of these because I'll try pretty much any food once, and to be honest, the tongue bothered me the most. I had to focus really hard on not picturing a cow's tongue in my mouth, but if I didn't know beforehand what it was it wouldn't have been a problem.

So it's been here that I've discovered the wonders of waitressing. It's a pretty small venue, so only me and one other girl work together to make the tips worthwhile, and boy are they worthwhile! The tips are THE best part of waitressing. I usually make more in tips each night than I do at my hourly wage. Plus, the clientele there is pretty much just old people. More specifically: old men. And they usually have a drink at the bar before I serve them, wine during dinner, and another drink to top it off before they leave. All this makes for a loose hand when it comes to tipping the pretty, young, white, blonde girl that served them at dinner. That's right, at this place I'm considered pretty, young, white (duh!), and blonde! Never before now have I felt like the prettiest girl in the room, and I'll tell you what, every girl (or boy) deserves to feel like that at some point in their lives. It does wonders for the ego.

My spanish is also getting better because the guys that work in the kitchen don't speak english. About the only thing I can say to them conversationally is "Como estas" and "Bien, y tu?" But they call me senorita bonita, so we get along pretty well. Juan knows the most english, so he's attempting to teach me something new each day I work.

Jackie is my friend and co-worker who started dishing the details of her life with me on my very first day. She trained me and helps me out whenever I need it, and always listens to my problems while giving me genuine advice.

Cathy is the boss's daughter who works with me occassionally. She tells it like it is and has inspired me to be a more assertive person.

Margaret is co-owner with her husband Fermin. She's the bartender that doesn't take any bullshit, and her husband is always trying to get me to drink the house wine while I'm working a shift. I have accepted his offer only once :)

So as you can see, my summer experience has pretty much been a series of Cheers episodes.

It's not peachy all the time, though. I get the ocassional bad tipper. And even the occasional no-tipper-at-all, but for the most part I've had some pretty good conversations with the regulars, and some especially good conversations with the drunks. I'm also happy to report that I've yet to get pinched on the ass, and I've only accidentally broken 2 glasses so far.

Not to mention, I've built up my savings account pretty nicely... That is until I got my tuition bill from Chapman.... Bye-bye savings.... That really pissed me off, but hey, I'm used to not having money, so I'll get over it. What's important is that I've made pretty good friends with my co-workers at the Basque and I've gained some more work experience. Hopefully I can get another waitressing job down in Orange somewhere. Although, in Orange, I'll just be one of a million of other pretty, young, blonde, white-girls. Eh, it was nice while it lasted...


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