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January 19, 2007
The Tao of Waitressing
by Lindsay Luckey, insurgent49

    I’m lucky.  I’m one of the luckiest people in the entire world.  I was dealt a pretty easy hand to play: American, white, good health, heterosexual, two parents.  On top of that, I’ve never gone hungry or been homeless, I was able to go to school for 18 years and see other parts of the world and, if I ever decide waiting tables isn’t for me, I have other options.  I have supportive, loving friends and family. 

     I am lucky.  I know that, and I appreciate it every day. 

     I am among such a privileged minority that you’d think I’d be on top of the world.  Most days I am.  But there is one thing: I’m a girl.

     A couple of weeks ago, I waited on a man dining alone.  He was friendly and we talked about the book he was reading, his family back at home and my experience growing up in Alaska.  As he left the restaurant, he said it had been nice to meet me and I said the same.  And I meant it. 

     Last week, my friend came back.  Our host greeted him and asked if he’d like a table for one.

     “Oh no, I just came to see if your server was … .” Spotting me and pointing towards me, he said, “Oh I see her, there she is.”

     I recognized him and met him to say hello.  I asked why he wasn’t eating.  He said he just wanted to come and see if I was working.  He had been drinking.

     “Well, it’s nice to see you again.  I haven’t had time to look up that book yet….”

     He interrupted, “You look gooooood.”

     Thrown off, I started to blush and wondered what an appropriate response would be.  I watched his eyes move over my body and, even in an ill-fitting, baggy uniform several feet away from him, I felt naked and violated. 

     I told him I’d have to check out the book and waved a dismissing goodbye.  He kept looking at me and winked at me and told me again that I looked good and asked when I was done with work.  Disgusted, I smiled and walked away.

     I restrained myself from telling the man how I really felt … that he was being inappropriate, that he made me feel small, uncomfortable and dirty, that he probably ought to call his wife and kids instead of getting drunk in a hotel bar and hitting on the waitress.  Part of my restraint came from “the customer is always right” instinct that I turn on while at work.  But most of it was just being used to that type of harassment. 

     The thing is, as women, we have to deal with “that kind of thing” ALL the time. I’ve been harassed because of my sex in workplaces, at school, on the street, by friends and by strangers.  Most women I know have had to deal with this.  And we deal with it. 

     Some laugh it off, some enjoy it, some are validated by it, some close off, some get bitter.  If the same scenario had occurred while I was on my way to my car after work, I would’ve called the police. If I’d been at a bar and my friend had said it, I’d have hugged him and told him to dream on.  So yes, there is a fine line, and the devil is in the details.  It often is. 

     And while men are often flattered by a little sexual harassment, I think that, if it were constant and there was the threat that they could be physically harmed or sexually assaulted by women, it would be a different story.

     I’ve been to mandatory sexual harassment seminars and presentations, and they’re usually a joke.  It’s seen as an annoyance or a nice break from work, or something to joke about for the rest of that day at work.  As a woman, you have a few choices: you can make jokes or laugh along with them or you can take it seriously and be ostracized as a prude or someone who doesn’t know “how to take a joke”.  It’s unfortunate that the motivation for most sexual harassment training is to avoid lawsuits, not to make sure your coworkers and friends don’t feel violated and uncomfortable in their own skin. 

     I am lucky.  I am so close to being in the luckiest group, that for a long time I thought I was in the top group.  I know what it’s like to be privileged, but at the same time I know what it’s like to feel insignificant, voiceless and powerless.

     It hurts to be treated negatively because of something you can’t control, like your gender, race or sexual orientation.  I can only imagine how hard it must be to have more than one strike against you.

     We need to keep talking about our differences, because just ignoring a problem or paying lip service to it once in a while only trivializes the issue.  Everyone has a story and hardships to overcome.  Be nice and respectful.  Please.
 
     And to those who are, thank you.  It’s appreciated.






     Lindsay Luckey is a waitress and aspiring Renaissance woman. She lives and works in undisclosed locations in downtown Anchorage, and can be reached at lindsay@insurgent49.com.

     'The Tao of waitressing' appears on insurgent49.com every Friday.
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The Tao
of Waitressing
by Lindsay Luckey







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in-sur-gent (in sur'jent), n. 1. a member of a group which revolts against the policies of its leadership.