genesisFall2016.pdf 14 genesis fall 2016 Waitressing and Us Victoria Johnson I met Donald toward the end of the night. He’d come in to check his schedule and I saw him out of the corner of my eye as I bussed a table. He He was average height, skinny, and had glasses. all he did was introduce himself and I don’t know that we talked about much else, but I knew from would’ve second guessed it. Maybe he was just being nice. But with Donald, there was no denying it. * “He’s so annoying,” one girl said. “He creeps me out,” said another. We were in the break room, taking one of two of our crackers dipped in strawberry jam (free). “He’s not that bad,” I said. They shrugged. When I got back to my section it was dead. The quick and (hopefully) interesting history of hutches is as follows: the hutches are wood and quite large, larger than most grandmothers would have in their kitchens or dining rooms. They have glass windows where antiques are displayed. But more importantly, they have just about every sin gle thing a server would need: pitchers of sweet and all the other necessary condiments. Just about every server had their own. They were our proper ty. Mess with someone’s hutch or steal their water pitcher and you were in for it. For all the ones who got away Year I night at Gray Brother’s, a local cafeteria that had been around since the 40s. When people came to visit, you took them to Gray’s. It was unique, one At the entrance, sat a massive assembly line for your dinner sat in front of you. You grabbed your tray, napkins, silverware, dessert (yes, before the main course), and then the kind workers behind the counter asked what you’d like and you’d pick you would seat yourself. I worked there for roughly six years. That’s the thing about Gray’s. You either worked there for a few days, weeks, or months, or you were there for years and people thought, “May I never have the luck of that person.” However, I quickly found a rhythm: introduce, swer the bell, and repeat. Except “answer the bell” was more like every few minutes. Because Gray’s stalled and the cashiers rang it every time some one needed help carrying their tray. This bell was the annoyance of the entire restaurant. It was like running from the door but wanting to chat every two minutes. est o on ction genesis fall 2016 15 “Victoria,” he said. “My someday wife.” Maybe it is odd that he greeted me this way, but it was our normal. He put his arm around my shoul ders. I side stepped away and tried to shimmy out from under his arm. “You know, you’re the kind of girl any guy would want to marry.” always did, and I hated it because I didn’t want to encourage him. “Whatever,” I said. What I really wanted to say was: Donald, people wouldn’t think you were such a creep if you wouldn’t act like one. For the rest of the night, I found random bits of trash and straw wrappers hidden on my hutch. Each one was like a treasure hunt. Don ald would walk by, smile mischievously, and I’d know he’d hidden something somewhere. I took give in just enough to encourage him. Year 2 The honest truth that took me years to ad mit is this: I looked forward to working with Don ries. I liked that they didn’t know him: that he was mine alone, separate from the rest of my life. But the ambivalence I felt toward him was palpable. That’s the crux I kept tripping over. We leaned against my hutch (such a nor mal position for a bored worker). It was before the ty: a normal conversation at the beginning of the before close and the time of our last break of the evening. If the line was gone by then, our tables would have plenty of time to eat and be gone by time we closed, and the hope was that we’d have an empty section ready for cleaning by closing. In a perfect world it would happen. “How’s the boyfriend?” he asked. He’d ask every now and then. He probably wanted me to tell him how awful my boyfriend was so he’d have I had fun. He kind of came out of nowhere and I honestly was just enjoying hanging out with him and then I started to like him and he liked me, but it kind of went downhill from there, honestly. to say that even though he never met Donald, he old self liked that Donald made him a bit jealous, and well, vice versa. “What?” His grin was undeniable. “When?” “A couple months ago.” “You never told me.” I wanted to wipe the about something like that. “Didn’t seem important.” “This is fantastic. Didn’t I always tell you I could see the future? You and me, we’re meant to be.” “You have a girlfriend,” I said. I wanted to punch him for her. I really did. He’d recently met a girl that lived in Chicago. For a good year or so people joked that she didn’t exist. Such per was used to, especially from someone who had a girlfriend already. It made me feel like “the other woman” when I wasn’t even doing anything. For four years a fear hung over my head that this mys terious woman from Chicago would come down and yell at me for something I didn’t even do. “Right now, but I can see the future, re member?” Victoria Johnson 16 genesis fall 2016 Waitressing and Us me.” “And your point is?” “It’s, I don’t know, weird.” When you’re nineteen and a guy that is for me it was anyway, but the more I got to know Donald, the more it didn’t seem that big of a deal. I was more mature and he was less mature, so I guess it evened out. “Will you help me clean the rest of my ta bles?” he asked from across the room. I was a pro rhythm. “Absolutely not,” I said. “You can do it yourself.” I packed up my things and prepared to leave. “But Victoria,” he said, elongating the sylla bles. That was when I found him most annoying—when he acted as if he couldn’t do things himself, whether kid ding or not. It wasn’t that I was against helping him, but he didn’t legitimate ly need my help. Year 3 Donald became my safe space at Gray’s. He kept me entertained, sane, and laughing. When ever I was cleaning a table or talking to someone, he’d come up behind me and poke me in this spot under my shoulder blade that made me cringe. Or he’d put his arm around me and tell whomever I was talking to that I was his girlfriend, especially if I was talking to another guy. Whenever I came into work, I’d look for hands in his pockets in the opening to the New Room, which wasn’t even the newest addition to the restaurant. He’d smile at me and wave, and I’d smile back, happy I had someone to smile at. But all the while he was dating the illumi nous Chicago girl, and it didn’t sit well with me. you,” Donald said. “Jackson is watching.” Jack son’s family owned the restaurant. My cousin married him. He’d told Donald that he had his eye ing with girls (obviously), and I guess Jackson saw it as his duty to make sure Donald didn’t get too close to me. I laughed and shook my head, enjoy “Seriously. He scares me.” After a pause he said, “So you’ve got a boy friend now?” “Sort of. I’ve known him since high school.” All of my relationships at that point had been long distance, which in hindsight, I’m grateful for. To quote myself, I once said about this relationship that it was like I was single, but not. I kind of liked it that way—then, anyway. “You think you’re going to marry him?” “I don’t know.” I knew I wasn’t, but some sight. Really a beauty. “Well, you’re not. It’s you and me, future wife.” “If you say so.” Nonchalance epitomized never got me anywhere, so I just passively accept ed whatever he said. Donald would say some thing he’d said so many times before and instead with it, be ambiguous, or pretend not to show any Donald became my safe space at Gray’s. genesis fall 2016 17 Victoria Johnson interest. Maybe that was wrong—I don’t know. “So you admit it,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. I tried not to make eye contact because I knew I’d smile back. I shook my head and laughed, knowing no response would shut him up. “Why don’t you think we’ll work?” he asked. “You don’t even really know anything about me, Donald,” I said. “Sure I do. I know you’re beautiful, funny, and amazing.” He said it as if it were all that mat tered. It wasn’t. “Besides, you’re the Lois Lane to my Superman.” “I don’t like Superman.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his shocked expression. was like I had another life at work. One no one else really knew about. Sure I’d tell stories about Don ald, but it was understood nothing would ever happen between us. My friends would say, Oh that Donald. He’s so ridiculous. My mom would ask if I had any more Donald stories. That’s what he was in the end: a mess of stories. Year 4 We stood in a doorway, watching custom put his arm around my shoulders. I didn’t shrug ished some spiel about how perfect we were for were of course. I found out Donald told someone he’d leave his girlfriend for me, but I didn’t want that. I never wanted to be the “other,” the one who ru ined everything, the one who stole someone’s boy friend. It doesn’t always work out like it does in the movies. “Oh, Victoria,” he said. “When will you re alize we’re perfect for each other?” “You have a girlfriend,” I said. The same makes me uncomfortable.” What I’d wanted to say at work, but couldn’t quite form the words, so I sent him a Facebook message (classy). After that, he was cold and didn’t say anything to me. “Donald, did you hear about the Doctor Who 50th anniversary?” A shrug. No eye contact. The next week, he walked by me singing “Heartbreaker” by Pat Benetar. My jaw dropped. Both relationships I’d had, they’d kind of ended up mutual in the end, so I’d never left someone heart broken. It felt like that time I sprinkled salt on a slug and ran immediately away because I felt like the worst person in the world. apologized—for what, I wasn’t quite sure, but I apologized anyway. The restaurant bustled with about the temperature of their food. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said. I really anything. We were barely friends. This moment I remember perfectly: I stood over a round table by one of the big windows, cleaning. He stood on the other side, holding a tray full of dirty dishes. His voice quivered as he spoke. He didn’t make eye contact. I knew he was being sincere, speaking from the heart. No one, not even the guys I’d dated, had expressed their “I meant everything I ever said,” he said. “You’re a great girl. You’re, like, what every guy 18 genesis fall 2016 Waitressing and Us dreams of as the perfect wife.” I stared back at him in shock. I didn’t know what to say. Obviously not every guy would think that, and I wouldn’t want them to. So I just looked at him. His voice cracked. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. But I really do like you. I always have. I’m sorry.” He walked away, speeding toward the dish room. I stood dumbfounded with customers staring at me. him, he was cleaning one of his tables, which was the perfect time to talk to someone when it was busy. I took a deep breath, with my heart nearing my throat, and said, “You know, Donald, maybe it would’ve worked in another life.” That’s when I said it. That mostly emp ty, but heartfelt phrase. Did I mean it? Partly, but at the end paths. “You’ll always be the one that got away,” he said. I liked that. I liked being the one that got Year 5 “So you’re really doing it this time,” I said. After talking about moving to Chicago for “In a couple weeks.” “It won’t be the same without you. Who will I talk to about Doctor Who?” “I’ll miss you too, Victoria.” One of the last things I remember before he left is this: I was working on pies, where you cut strawberry pie, which was a beast to cut. It was just before close. Only a few people made up the line and I was trying to get a head start on clean up. Donald stood next to me, saying something he usually said about our eventual marriage, when a ware. “You guys are perfect for each other,” he said. “We’re not together,” I said. Smiling and feeling awkward. Always smiling though. It was my downfall with Donald. My inner emotions coming out when I least wanted them to. “I know we are,” Donald said. “She won’t admit it.” His grin was ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. The man looked at me and said, “She likes you. I can tell.” When he got down the line, Donald bounced over to me. “See! I told you. Even he can see it.” I don’t remember what I said. I probably told him ev being ridiculous. He had a girlfriend. Etc. etc. But I in my stomach at the man’s words. At Donald’s words or his smile or the times he’d put his arm around me. A couple weeks later, he left and didn’t say goodbye. He said he would, but he didn’t. Year 6 I left the cafeteria too, but after a year of volunteering abroad I came back, something I said I’d never do, but I was going to get my master’s degree, also something I said I’d never do,and I needed a job. Many people were new and most “You know, Donald, maybe it would’ve worked in another life.” genesis fall 2016 19 Victoria Johnson ly high schoolers. I wondered if I was like them their names. I’d always been awful with names. Everyone had their own people to talk to. I stood near them, sat next to them, but rare ly joined in the conversations. I knew people and was still known as a veteran, but we weren’t close. I was there to work. I stuck to myself even more than before. I went back to my section in the New Room, leaned against my hutch, and observed the room and the subtle changes that had occurred since I’d left. I looked out the window and remem bered the night Donald and I watched a bird peck at the window all evening. “I think he comes every year,” Donald said. and down. said. I never thought I’d miss the hidden straw wrappers, random pokes in my back that made me jump, and having someone to lean against the hutch with. But I did. I do.