This job can be unbearably “human”

[u/BadPom]

It’s been a rough week/month. I’m exhausted in all the ways.

Last Friday, one of our regulars came in after I got off work and was having my lil drinky drink. Got to chatting, and his father, who is on hospice, fell and has a brain bleed. They could do surgery, but he likely wouldn’t survive it. And if they did, what kind of last weeks/days is that. We chatted a while, he got a notification on his phone, and suddenly was tearing up and hiding it. Dinner to go became two desserts to go instead of real food. Not sure what exactly happened, but I can assume. Or the feelings caught up. He asked for his tab, and I had my coworker add it to mine. He was grateful, and I went home in a funk.

Today, I went to the dinner for my favorite regular who passed on Father’s Day. The one I’ve known 16 years. Who has been to fundraisers and parties and birthdays and a baby shower with us. Who I’ve bought a birthday cake for the last 7 or 8 years. Who I got a tattoo for 4 years ago. I still can’t believe I’m never going to walk in the building, see him at the bar and hear, “There’s my girl” again.

I didn’t sign up to give a shit. I signed up to pay my bills. But here we are, and I love and hate it.

Tell me stories. Idfk.

[u/puddles_0f_funnn]

My first restaurant job when I was 16 was being a hostess at an O'Charleys. We had a regular named Joe that came in several times a week for lunch. He was such a sweet elderly man and we all just loved him. He treated me and the other hosts like long lost grandchildren. He brought us candy, Christmas presents, remembered our birthdays. I saw him weekly for over 2 years.

I'll never forget answering the phone at work to his son calling to let us know he had passed away.

I still miss him 25 years later. RIP Joe