Restaurant Retail – The Life of a Post-Grad, Married, Twenty-Something

When I was younger I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t get married until I graduated college. June 13th, 2009 I kept that promise and Graduated from the University of Oregon with a Bachelor’s Degree in Magazine Journalism. June 14th 2009 I married the love of my life. I kept the promise but about 28 hours, but I certainly didn’t let myself down!

If I could pick a dream job it would be a tie between a writer for Rolling Stone and the editor of Paste Magazine. I would want the kind of epic writing life such as that of Cameron Crowe in “Almost Famous.” It was in my last 3 months of school I had this terrible discovery that perhaps I’d wasted most of my time trying to find a place in the magazine program when perhaps I’d belonged in their Literary Non-Fiction program. I didn’t really know where the degree would take me but at least I had one.

For six years of my life I worked as a Nanny for the best family ever. I started out working once a week watching an 8 year old boy and walking him home from school, making sure he finished homework. I’d work a few Fridays or Saturdays here and there so that the parental units could venture outside the house. Less than a year into my Nanny Career, the mom was pregnant with baby number two. After about a 6 month hiatus I got this adorable note in the mail saying they may need me soon.

When the baby was about 6 months and big brother was about 9, I started working 5 days a week from 8 or 9am to 2 or whenever in the afternoon as the official “Nanny.” I left them when the youngest was 6 and big brother was 15, and I miss them every day. Once they were all grown up and my job was more or less, “done” I’d exhausted every other idea that came along with staying in Oregon.

The hubby worked as a chef, and we knew a lot of people in the restaurant biz but I still couldn’t even get an interview. With family stuff becoming emotionally horrid, friendships falling apart at the seams and tearing our love into pieces we decided to get up and go after graduation and the wedding to start a new life. We moved down to Tampa in June 2009 to be near his aunt and cousins and my cousins who lived in the next city over.

Some people thought we were crazy, some didn’t know how the hell we picked Tampa, of all places, and we had no idea what was in store for us. My husband found work almost instantly as a line-cook at a Sushi place, making the teriyaki and fried dishes that anyone who didn’t enjoy sushi was prone to order at these places. Shortly after I found a job at a place that sells “Medical Apparel,” or as I later informed anyone who asked, “I sell scrubs.”

My husband, Eben, hated his job. He said the place was a huge health code violation. They started him at decent pay but he literally worked about 6 days a week with no say in his days off and single-handedly cleaned that place up and was treated terribly. One day they just fired him because he brought up the fact that they were paying him under what they had promised him.

My job wasn’t so terrible. It was air conditioned and the girls I worked with were pretty nice. I folded and hung scrub outfits, organized shoes, filled out embroidery forms, rang up sales and what not; pretty simple. My boss and his wife ran the place. He was okay. He was mid-50’s, kind of anal-retentive, but with a pretty sharp business sense. Eben said it best when he described his wife as looking like a mix between the wicked witch from Wizard of Oz and a troll. She had this annoying muddled southern accent and when she spoke she’d use the wrong words to describe things but had decided it was the correct way. Like saying an attitude was holding yourself in a certain “posture.” She also had this way of disguising an insult in a compliment. A personal favorite of mine was, “Oh that’s a cute vest! Are vests in style?”

I thought the scrub store was okay. My bosses said it was the best place to work as far as retail went. In some ways they were right. We worked in a nice hospital, away from all the blood and guts and diseased areas. There was a coffee shop right around the corner that sold lattes and such, the cafeteria had pretty good stuff, and we could get snacks and go to the bathroom whenever. I thought I was pretty good at the whole scene and the chicks I worked with were pretty cool. For minimum wage it could have been worse.

When Eben got fired we hit panic mode. I was only working part time. I found this place on Craigslist that had great hours and wasn’t too far away. They were closed Sunday and only open 11am-9pm so no more insanely late nights. It was a Mexican Grille, which was Eben’s specialty. He knew a lot about Latin American cuisine and such. He blew them away on the interview and fell in love with the place.

About two months into his employment he mentioned something to the owner about how I’d always wanted to work in a restaurant but had only ever worked at fast food. I earned my stripes at a Burger King on campus when I was 19. They needed an extra person to run food in the front of the house and the owner looked at Eben and asked him one simple question: “Can you work with her?”

I was hired a couple of weeks later and started working nights at the restaurant. The first few months were rough. Eben was working his way up to Kitchen Manager and the Front of the House manager secretly hated me. I think most of the other girls thought that I was under the impression that since Eben was climbing up the ladder, I was something special too, but they were wrong.
The restaurant kicked my ass! It still does. Mentally it has broken me down more often than I’d care to admit, and physically, some days it sucks. I do it for the people – my co-workers (well, most of them) and for the guests. I’ve met some amazing people there. Eben is like a fish in water at that place. I doubt he could exist without it. He is constantly working to better himself. Two years ago we would have killed each other if we worked together. Now, we do quite well, and are proud of it. It’s really nice.

Although I really liked the scrub store more at first, when boss man was promoted to Regional Manager and wicked-witch boss lady was made in-store manager, everything went to shit. I thought she’d be a great manager because we could do virtually no work and she wouldn’t even notice. Instead she brought in a kind of drama only her evil counterparts could sustain. I really wanted to shine at the store so I worked hard and slacked the least bit I could. Some days were boring so I slacked more than I’d care to admit, but everything always got done.

Anyway, our new witchy manager had all these little talks with us. They weren’t pep-talks, they were discussions that were usually about one person consistently making all kinds of mistakes and instead of being an adult and confronting the person one-on-one it became a store issue. She’d pit us against each other and make these crazy assumptions and jump to these insane conclusions about our “character” and our “attitudes” based on miscommunications on a daily basis. One day I was so violently mad that I stood there trembling in tears at her psychotic accusations praying for the strength not to quit while a fellow-coworker ended up defending me.

If you were out of the line of fire one week, you were in it the next. It was a vicious rotation. Eben confessed to me later that he couldn’t stand hearing me stress about the store. It was worse than my frustrations getting to understand the way the restaurant worked.

The scrub store fired me right before my birthday vacation back to the west coast. I’d never been fired before. I cried out of frustration and because I worked my ass off at the stupid store. Plus, it didn’t help that I had one of the girls planting the seeds of my firing behind my back, making me look bad all the time. Witch-troll-manager-lady was threatened by me. I did a good job there, no, a great one, and she hated me for it. When I tried to take initiative or defend others, she saw it as undermining her and trying to go over her head. There was no discussion because how things were meant and how things were perceived were concepts this woman could never grasp. Things happened how she saw them, period!

Working the two jobs was tough but we worked hard and we played hard. Eben liked that I was willing to work so hard. In turn, he worked hard and helped me out a lot. It was a good 6 month run of working myself ragged at both places but with the darkness, comes a light.
The manager that hated me at the restaurant quite and her replacement was much nicer, and far more understanding in terms of life and schedules and such. With this employee gone there was room for me to step up and be trained in a different position. So I did. I took the leap and I said, “hey, let’s do it.”

So from college to retail to the restaurant things have been interesting. As for writing, I freelance for an amazing entity called Creative Loafing. I mostly do online writing. I do concert reviews. I get to see bands for free and write about them, sometimes even getting paid for my work. Since I started writing for them I have been to over a dozen shows. I’ve written reviews for bands and artists like, Ben Harper, Jimmy Buffet, Foreigner, Green Day, Boys Like Girls, Good Charlotte, Paul Anka, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, David Gray, Flogging Molly, Bowling For Soup, Blind Boys of Alabama, and the Backstreet Boys.

They don’t tell you in college that things like this exist; that you can have your dream job without worrying about bills and having no life. I can go to my day job and make my rent, then I can sign up for who I want to see, request tickets, and if the promoter says yes, I can take my husband to a concert for free and then write about the experience the next day for the world to read. Every once in awhile they toss me a paycheck, be it 5 bucks or 50 and I’m just doing what I love.

Life is kind of crazy. When I was twelve I would have never imagined! Sometimes I think I should be doing more, or “better,” but what else is there? I mean, really? We pay our bills and have extra to lower the credit card debt and have a little fun here and there. We go to almost all our favorite concerts for free, I build up my resume with every piece I write, and sleep very well at night. No babies, no pets; it’s just me and my man. We’re healthy, we’re happy, we’re stable, and it’s simple. Life after college only goes perfectly planned for a small percentage…most of whom have a serious supply of money. You can drive yourself crazy with these, “should I’s” and “could I’s” and ideals and societal expectations but if you are where you want to be, and you are who you want to be, what else is there?

With all my life experience, with all my jobs in the past ten years, all my schooling, and all my relationships I’ve learned enough to write a whole novel, but there is some comfort in knowing that the future is just out there and whatever I do, wherever I go, I have the tools to do anything: write, work at the mall, be a Nanny, a personal assistant, a server, a hostess, a cashier, a mom, a housewife, an artist, whatever!

Life after college is not what I’d imagined, not quite what I’d planned and isn’t always easy, but I’m happy…and I love not knowing what’d next!

Bring Me Back A Keychain! -A Simple Request So Often Taken for Granted-

We live in a busy world - a crazy and busy world. In a time of cynicism and sarcasm, we take many things for granted. We take people, situations, moments, request, demands, and questions for granted. For about the past decade or so I’ve inadvertently conducted an experiment and it has led to quite the discovery.

When I was younger we used to travel and I’d always ask for ridiculous souvenirs. My parents kept me away from shot glasses, even though I found them to be precious, so I ended up with keychains, pens, those license plates with your name on it, and other random things. Somehow my mom got me into collecting keychains with my name on it – we found that finding a keychain with Alison spelled with only one “L” could be kind of a task, so it was like a fun game we’d play every place we went.

Then one day, someone – a friend, classmate, neighbor or such – went on a trip and I said to them before they left, “Bring me back a keychain.” I can’t remember if on that very first instance they brought me one or not, but my asking for one became commonplace when anyone told me of an upcoming trip. It also became common that if I were asked for one, I would return with a token for a friend.

I started noticing a strange pattern. The people I would least expect actually came through for me. I had an old friend’s, ex-girlfriend buy me a keychain from San Diego. I had a friend of the boy I used to babysit, bring me a keychain back from Las Vegas.

See, it’s a simple request, isn’t it? “Hey, bring me back a keychain!” Most keychains are five dollars or under, but it’s so often overlooked. I have had some of my best friends forget, or just not get one when I’ve asked. Some people actually think I’m joking or just being ridiculous with my request.

I believe this whole thing is a testament to the world we live in…seriously! In some ways, yes, it’s completely ridiculous…all of it. But when you can’t remember a simple request, or just don’t care to do something so small to brighten someone’s day, what does that say about us all? Right now I have so many keychains I get made fun of. They say one day my transmission will become angry with me because they’re so heavy and there are so damn many!

I have keychains from places all over the world. My friend in the Air Force sent me keychains from Holland, Rome, and Germany. I got some in Ireland when I was there. A co-worker brought me one from El Salvador and my boss gave me one from the Bahamas. Currently I have keychains from Key West, Baltimore, Colorado, Hawaii, New Orleans, Seattle, Kentucky, and Amish Country accompanying various sets of keys. Most of these have been gifts in one sense or another, and all of them have sentimental value and meaning.

I think that this universe is filled with positivity and negativity. We have so many obstacles to get through, so many frowns, so many triumphs to make and so many smiles. If the simple act of bringing back a keychain can increase that positivity and keep the smiles flowing, why not just do it? Sure, this may all be quite silly, perhaps seemingly inconsequential, but just think about it! It’s quite the social study isn’t it? So the next time someone hears about your next trip and says, “Bring me back a keychain,” if you have the extra 5 bucks, maybe think about grabbing them a little something that really says, “hey, I thought about you while I was away…see?” It’s the little things in life!

The Backstreet Boys Bring Back 90’s Pop at the Ruth Eckerd Hall for Memorial Day

To satisfy my teenage pop-obsessed past I decided to go for it when I saw that Backstreet Boys would be performing in Clearwater on May 31st. Yes, “Backstreet’s back, alright!”

To open, the audience met what looked like it could be the “Jackson 4,” but called themselves Mindless Behavior. With matching plaid pants, hip-pop dance moves and prepubescent-pitched catchy tunes, they were the perfect opener to complement the infamous Backstreet Boys. Mindless Behavior had very little stage to dance all over as the BSB stage set-up was hidden right behind them and a huge red curtain. Mindless Behavior put on a great opening set.

Ruth Eckerd was filled with ladies from about 12-50, disgruntled husbands and boyfriends forced against their will and a handful of men who were actually fans. These girls were all decked out, accessorized and ready to see their heartthrobs. Anyone not dressed up was sporting an overpriced Backstreet Boys shirt, tote bag or hoodie that immediately replaced their other tee or purse in anticipation of the boy band’s first Ruth Eckerd Hall appearance.

I knew they would make some insanely dramatic entrance, but it turned out to be even better. As soon as the lights went off so did the screams, cries and wails from every girl in the crowd. They had an elaborate stage setup on top of the actual Ruth Eckerd stage, complete with a staircase on either side of it, which was reminiscent of their older stage setups, just a quarter of the size of their arena shows. Now I’d never been to a BSB concert, but like all other 90’s teen girls, I knew all about what I’d missed at their shows.

They had this hilarious music video-esque/movie intro on a huge screen at the center of the top part of their stage. They had a countdown to the big moment and as their movie-screen selves started to move closest to the camera, they jumped out of the screen and the girls went crazy! Everyone was standing up and moving around as they opened with “Everybody, Backstreet’s back!”
At the risk of completely discrediting myself as having any kind of musical knowledge, I’ll admit I knew all the words and all the names of their songs through about 2003. After that I fell in and out of touch with them but knew they were still producing music. They said a new album is currently under way and should be releasing later this year. After 17 years they still have an amazing following, and this is even with one less Backstreet Boy than they started with.
After the big opener they played “We’ve got it goin’ on,” a newer selection called “PDA,” and a “Quit Playin’ Games/As Long as You Love Me” montage. Complete with wardrobe changes, fly-girls, and BSB movie interludes, the show was definitely quite the spectacle. They had a “Fast and Furious” montage with Howie against Vin Diesel which provided time to change and they reappeared in BSB sequined hoodies.

They still had the moves. Every once in awhile between the band themselves and the fly girls they would miss a beat or over-anticipate a step, but they still had it “Goin on’.” The crowd seemed to agree. They played songs new and old to satisfy every age in the crowd. “This is Us,” the title track to their most recent album was then followed by “Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely,” and “All I Have to Give.” They kept a good flow of new-old, new-old but you could tell who loved them from the start and who just recently jumped on the BSB bandwagon, with a simple scan of the crowd.
Besides the BSB “Fight Club” montage with AJ, the “Enchanted” montage with Brian, and the “Matrix” montage with Nick, the lighting, onstage drummer, and random use of cutesy props to act out the stories within the songs made for an amazingly entertaining evening. That’s the thing about Pop shows; it’s all a charade and a great one at that.

They’ve stayed consistent over all these years, which is more than we can stay for any other boy-band. BSB were some of the pioneers of the boy-band craze and it’s nice to see them still putting their all into their career. Sure, may be Pop music at its most trendy, but it certainly sticks with you; every fan at Ruth Eckerd Hall Monday night was a testament to that!
Backstreet Boys ended the evening with their greatest hit “I Want It That Way,” which ended up being the high point of the evening. They returned for a quick and easy one-song encore of their latest single “Straight through my Heart.”

The crowd left elated and ready to gab about the show. I heard a few guys commenting on how BSB updated their choreography, and even my husband admitted that, overall, the show was pretty good. For a trip down Pop music’s memory lane, it was a great one, and my fourteen year old self is finally at peace after having the ultimate boy-band experience to end Memorial Day Weekend!