Thursday, May 2, 2013

Getting Personal

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve spoke up about being in the restaurants and of course I’m filled to the brim with stories and little tid bits, but today I thought I would bring up something that irked me this morning. 

There is something sacred about being a server. Like any full time job you spend 40+ hours a week with the same people, and you form a brotherly bound with said people, hey they are your coworkers you should like them and it’s almost weird if you do not know about their lives outside of work. But, if working in the food industry has taught me anything it’s that being a server it goes to a whole new level. And by this I mean shit gets personal fast, in the most sexual manner possible. Now being openly gay puts me out there even more I can’t tell you how many times I have had to explain to my coworkers how lesbians have sex and why we do what we do. “No scissoring is more of a foreplay gig,” is said almost as much as , “Would like sweet or unsweet tea, sir?” One manager in particular took a liking to me over the summer of 2011, we would spend the majority of our shift talking about women and our sexual conquest. I knew when he had sex and how he had sex and vice versa for me. Other coworkers would stand and gawk over how explicit we would be, but generally would just shrug it off. Fuck it, most of them knew the size of our manager’s dick any way. Now in any other setting I’m fairly private and I like to keep my private life just that, but this guy intrigued me and the summer was a bit rough for me so I needed to just let shit go. My favorite thing he told me was that he lost his virginity at 12 after splitting a Coors Light with a neighbor girl, then later on his twenties that had a real fuck fest for about a month straight, I love a happy ending. But, like I said generally I’m a private person, so private that at one of the restaurants I work for most of my coworker did, or well didn’t know who my girlfriend was do to the fact the she was a former employee. We started seeing each other whilst she was employed, and I never thought it was anyone’s business to know about our relationship/ I was not about to put her on blast to our coworkers. Our coworkers being the type to want to know every little detail of one’s life down to who spits or swallows and etc and it was bad enough being the only lesbian there already, everyone always asking me the strangest questions:

“So, why do you like vagina?”
“ like want to be a boy right? date really pretty girls and have short hair. You’re obviously the boy right?”
“How can you cum if you don’t have dick? You haven’t even had an orgasm”

But my personal favorite so far has to be,”So, are you like going to be an old lesbian?”

Well, I am a young yes. 

So wanting to keep my budding relationship to my self and not share with these sex crazed coworkers of mine was a great choice. Today was the first time I worked at my Steak house in over a month and surprisingly I was confronted by two servers about how they were legitimately upset  that I never told them about my relationship. Saying things like how they thought we were friends and etc...I’m sorry but being friends on facebook does not grant you access to my fucking life. I just simply explained how I’m private and prefer to keep it that way. Then the prying starts.

“How long has this been going?”
“Are you her first girlfriend?”
“How many girls has she dated in the past?”
“Are you the butch?”

And so on but then this one statement just got to me: “I find it so weird that she’s with you, I know guys that she has been with.”

I just shrugged it off to them. I work there once a month at best, so I try my hardest to keep my mouth shut and head low. This fucking statement though. I’ve heard this my whole life, because for some reason people can not seem to understand that sexuality is fluid and people change. Could my girl have dated men before me? Sure, do I care? No. Have I asked her? Nope. There is this odd trait about me where I don’t really care about what you’ve done in the past, what matters is whats going on right now with us. And, presently I just so happen to be dating a really awesome girl whom might I add sought me out. 

Something happens when you put your apron on, you feel entitled to everything at your restaurant. And, I’m no innocent. I love hearing about how the first time you slept with your boyfriend you thought he only had one ball, or how a former trainer slept with three of the cooks. Shit gets scandalous and who doesn’t love a juicy story? But at what point can we draw the line in the sand and call it day? If I’m going out of my way to not tell you about my life, is that not a hint to just drop it? Not here in server land.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Climbing with Kevin

Before going on this shoot I had been toying with idea of how I wanted to just get crazy and climb a tree and start shooting. Then as Kevin and I are exploring through the dense brush we stumbled upon this tree and both of us just started climbing and having a grand ole time. Fabulous. 

Thursday, January 3, 2013


 Starting the New Year off with a cold and hanging with my dear friend Pammy. The best thing about Pammy is that she is just so gosh darn adorable, and  that she finds everyone to be handsome or beautiful so she gives out a big boost of self-esteem to oneself always.  It’s always nice to surround yourself with good vibes especially those of another artist, I always love seeing my friend’s work and sharing ideas with one another. So today as we ran through the jungles of the local thrift stores comparing books and photo memories I found myself capturing a wild Pammy in her most feared state: in front of a camera. Nearly after every click from my shutter I would see her cringe only to be followed with, “Shut up, you’re beautiful.”   

Taken by Pammy, edited by yours truly. 
"I just wish for this to be in style again."
The thing is like Pammy; I think everyone is beautiful and I just wish so much to show them that.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Service Nightmares

I was never prone to nightmares as a kid. Very rarely would I wake dripping in sweat and tears begging for my parent’s comfort, I can recall having possibly maybe two major nightmares as a kid to be honest. Though I have always had vivid dreams to the point where they felt real, so thankfully I was not cursed with night terrors. Though when I turned sixteen I got my first job as cashier at a backwoods grocery store and that’s when I started having service nightmares.

They’d start off as if I was working a normal shift at the grocery store. Scanning items while playfully bantering between the baggers, and soft 90’s music playing in the background, and then it would shift. The conveyer belt would speed up throwing groceries at me faster than I could scan; old women would start screaming at me while making it rain coupons and checks. My world would start spinning into a cashier’s living hell…then I would wake up clutching my alarm clock praying that I had not over slept for work only to realize I had fifteen minutes to get work.

My nightmares would continually get worse until I started a new job and then my sick subconscious would find new ways to torture me.  The worst of my nightmares came from working at Katz’s, which is almost to be expected seeing how just working there was a living nightmare. Sixty to eighty hour work weeks, long shifts without breaks, unnervingly busy with a client base that were ungodly fabulous and in turn that made you want to jam your fist down your throat. The shortest shift at Katz’s was maybe 8 hours long and the longest being a little over 19 hours, an average shift for me was probably around 13 hours; then you would be expected to be back within the next 4-6 hours for your next shift. This wasn’t all the time just a good 85% of the time.  Sleep for me was a precious thing; I unlike the other servers did not partake in recreational pharmaceuticals to get me through the days, so when I came home I passed out. There were times where I didn’t even have the chance to fully undress before I was asleep. The nightmares for Katz’s were always the same, we would on a two hour plus wait, under staffed and I’m running on nothing. I would sneak away to storage to catch my breath and fall asleep, only to wake up to being tripled sat and the restaurant would just be burning to the ground because no one could possibly keep up any more. But in the midst of the nightmare I would spring forward awake clutching my phone thinking it was my check presenter. In the darkness of my room I would still think I was at Katz’s, and it wouldn’t be until I ran out my room ready to catch up my orders that I realized I was twenty minutes away and safe at home.  I’d stand in the hall between my roommate’s room and mine and begin to cry from exhaustion and stress that I was suffering.  The nightmares involving Katz’s would happen constantly and always ending with me waking in panic that I fell asleep in the storage room.  What a fucking sad existence I lived.

My current job is at a steakhouse, so my nightmares now generally involve the steaks not being prepared right and me rushing the kitchen to fix the order. I tossed and turned all last night over an undercooked NY Strip only to have my table to leave to go to Case Ole.  The worst thing about dreaming about work is waking up stressed out; I legitimately woke up scared and stressed that I was going to get in trouble over fucking up my table 47’s NY Strip.  

I’ll end on with a quote from a fellow server on Service Nightmares: “Restaurant nightmares are the worst! Especially the ones where you’re running food naked and you drop all the food on your dick.”