“Last time I was in, you had a trainee following you around.”
“Oh, right, yeah, well, that’s how we learn the job.”
“So, you did that too?”
“No, I already had several years of waitressing experience. Only reason I got the job. But it’s kind of silly, if you ask me.”
“What is?”
“Training all these people. They never stay. Two or three months on the job and then they’re gone. I guess some people don’t respect hard work or the time and money it takes to train somebody.”
“Yeah, you’re right. That doesn’t make much sense.”
“I won’t be working here much longer, so it doesn’t matter to me. I got another job offer and I’m taking it. Better pay, and benefits.”
“Great.”
“My mother used to work here, oh, about ten years ago. She was the one who told me to apply. Pay’s not great, not that any wait job’s is, but the tips aren’t bad, especially on the weekends when the guys get drunk and open their wallets. Makes up a little for all the stupid stuff they say, but if they get handsy, and a lot of them do, I bring the hammer down.”
“Good for you. Did your mother work here long?”
“No. I mean, she wanted to. But after about a year they let her go.”
“Why’s that?”
“They never told her. Then later, a friend of hers was hired to be a waitress here. About a year after that, they let her go too. No reason.”
“That is really odd.”
“Well, it’s not my problem. I’ll be out of here. Come to think of it, I’ve been here about a year. I guess if I wasn’t leaving, they might fire me too.”
“Maybe the management has changed since your mom’s time.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Come again.”
“Bill Peyton is the manager now. And he was the manager when my mom was here. She didn’t like him. He was always watching everything so closely.”
“I guess that’s what managers get paid to do.”
“I guess. And the kitchen staff, they haven’t changed either all that time.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they’re the same people when my mom was here. I told her some of their names when I first started working, and she recognized them all. They were here from when the place opened, for all I know.”
“You mean the cooks and busboys and all that?”
“Right.”
“What are they like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Old, young, men, women, Ohio farm stock?”
“All guys. And, no, I don’t think any of them are from Ohio. To tell the truth, I’m not sure where they’re from. They don’t interact with us much. Age-wise, they’re probably in their fifties.”