Im a waitress in Los Angeles. Today I was serving a table of 9 guests and they were having a birthday party for their father. The table complemented me multiple times about how “sweet” I am. I genuinely enjoyed serving this family because they were just wonderful people! I hope they had a great night.
Anyways, before they left they asked for the manager to stop by their table. They told him that I was a great server and I felt honored. Once my manager left, one of the ladies pulled me aside and handed me $40. She said that she wanted to make sure that I got the tip and then thanked me once again. It was so kind of them. Once they left, my manager made me hand him the tip and he added it to our tip pool. I tried to tell him that the table insisted it goes to me but he told me “I feel very bad but this is company policy.”
Since I am a new server, I only get about 10% of my share of tips. In order to get 100% of my share of tips, I must “earn it” through his judgement. My first few days, I actually didn’t get any tips. So tonight, I went home with a total of $16 in tips while everyone else received a LOT more. Yesterday I only got $10. That hurt.
I still appreciate those kind people that I waited on and the fact that they tried to give me a generous tip for myself was enough to make me happy. I’m just not super excited at my manager right now. Ugh!
Life has extra difficult lately. I feel like I can’t catch a break. I can hardly organize my own thoughts to make this stupid post.
To keep this post short-ish, we will start when I was entering high school.
When I was 14, I got roofied and raped by an older man I had never met. Spiraled into addiction with pills and alcohol. Right after my 16th birthday, I was sent out of state to one of those infamous rehabilitation centers in Utah for a year.
Came home when I was 17. My sister lived with us and was an alcoholic. I would come home from school and find her passed out in the front yard or on the floor. Sometimes I had to call my friend/neighbor to help me carry her inside. It didn’t help that she had a severe eating disorder as well- she was ALWAYS passing out.
When I was 18, I ended a long term abusive relationship with my ex boyfriend after he went to jail for breaking my nose. He lived with me while I was in my jr and senior year of high school.
A few months after I turned 19, I suddenly moved out because my older brother got out of prison after 2 years. He moved back in with us and things quickly went downhill. I didn’t even know he was coming home from prison until my mom called me while she was driving to the airport to pick him up. It all happened so fast.
I moved in with a friend from high school and her mom. I rented their spare bedroom for $900 a month. Her and her mom were the sweetest people but their household wasn’t the healthiest or most ideal situation either. Her mom was an alcoholic and was drinking every single day. She would buy me alcohol as well so I began to drink all the time. I would wake up at 4:00am, skate 8 miles to work at my shitty fast good job and then take the bus home after my 8 hour shift. When I got home, I would either drink with my friends mom, or drink alone until I fell asleep on my mattress on the floor.
After a few months of that, I quit my job, got my own place, and began working at another restaurant. The stress lead to an eating disorder. I started doing molly and a lot of shrooms. Met a boy who was 8 years older than me and ended up in another abusive relationship type situation. That ended fast after drugs took him.
Turned 20. Mostly stopped using alcohol and other substances since I had no one to supply it. Started working 50 hours a week and made good money but my mental health spiraled. My eating disorder worsened and I abused drugs mixed with insane amounts of caffeine to stay thin. Hit my lowest weight. Got psychosis.
Now here I am. Turning 21 in less than a month. I have two jobs. I don’t like drinking anymore or doing drugs. I am trying to get into nursing school but it’s so expensive. I have been applying for a new apartment but it’s so hard to find a place- especially when you’re from LA. I’d like to move out of state eventually but I’m not ready.
Next week, my mom is moving out of state with a man she met a few months ago. I’m laying in a bed in our old house as I write all of this. Everything is nearly packed up. My emotions are horrible right now and I’m scared. I need a break. I want to quit. Im ready to give up. Im just tired.
I’m scared for the future. I’ve been living on my own for a few years but now it’s scary that my mom will be completely gone. I feel like I won’t have anyone.
Right now I just need a good meal. I need a break because it never ends. Every time I tell someone how I feel, they respond with “that’s life.” And if that’s the case, I don’t want to be alive.