Few Shades of Grey

"UNCLE JONATHAN’S CORN-COB PIPE!!!!" I ran into the kitchen and shouted in Sarah’s ear while she put in an order. I paused long enough to watch her fall to her knees with laughter and then ran out again, the other server’s whispers of, "Huh?" and "What? I don’t get it...." trailing behind me.

Minutes later, back in the kitchen, Sarah and I were quoting the movie "Anchorman" some more. "Sarah, I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party."
"The what?"
"The.. party.... with the pants? Party with pants?"
"Are you trying to tell me that there’s a party in your pants and that I’m invited?"
"That’s it!"

Absolutely no one - except Phil, the crazy cook - knew what we were talking about. He laughed behind the line, shouting, "That’s German for a whale’s vagina!"
I bent down to look at him through the heat counter. "Shut up, Phil, I’m going to punch you in the ovary! One straight shot, right to the baby-maker!"
"Yeah, Phil, you’re a smelly pirate hooker!" Sarah managed to choke out between laughter.
"Hey, ladies, if you want to throw down in fisticuffs, I’ve got Jack Johnson and Tom O’Leary right here!" He put two awkward fists up, one clutching a spatula.

It was official - I had a clique, a posse. It had only been three days and already I had a posse.

But this was no ordinary posse - it was my first. I had always been the loner, the tag-along, the girl that no one really took seriously. But for some reason, people in Ohio really dug me. To the point where I felt like the popular kid and everyone was trying to sit at my lunch table. It was new, and very, very cool. I genuinely adored most of the people I met and worked with at Ruby Tuesday, and other locals I met through them. In addition to Sarah (my BFF) and Phil, there was Joe K and Lisa. There was also Schavon, Gay Joe, Greg, Drew, Jenny, Terry, Rachel, Hope, Brandon, Andrea 1, Andrea 2, Chad, George and Tommy. Granted, Sarah, Phil, Joe K., Lisa and I were the tightest of the people I just listed, but I consider all of them my new friends.

I think the reason it was so easy to jump into friendships with all of them stemmed from the basic fact that it was Ohio, and people are so much quicker to be open and inviting. That and the fact that I just acted like a crazed monkey everytime I was at work. Seriously, I realized quickly that, to my co-workers, I was an enigma shrouded in mystery. Here I was, about 4 years older than most of them, freshly off the road, well-read, well-traveled and well-seasoned in the ways of the world outside Ohio. I had lived in New York, LA, and DC - and now here I was in Sandusky. It became apparent early on that I was different, so I just embraced it. I would run around the restaurant singing or doing "The Ministry of Silly Walks", impressions of every funny movie or TV show ever, anything I could do to make someone laugh. It was fabulous. I felt confident.

There were even times where it freaked me out a little - like the time two waitresses got in a little tiff over who was going to talk to me first. But overall, it was very sweet; the perfect pick-me-up after so many lonely nights on the road.

I think another reason I got along so well with everyone is because - for once! - I made a vow that I would not date anyone I worked with. Whatsoever. That’s not to say I didn’t flirt with people, but I made a point not to be That Girl That Started Working Here And Now Is Sleeping With So-And-So.

But, just as great power comes with great responsibility, great people come with other people who like to kick up a shitstorm whenever possible. I could feel eyes on me most of the time I was there, watching which guys I was talking to, about what and for how long. It was mostly the younger crowd, the little hostesses who were just out of high school, and also the queen set. For some reason, gay men love to gossip.

I suppose the reason I’ve been harping so much on the gossip factor the last two entries is because I was so frustrated that for once I tried to be Friendly Girl and not Date My Co-Workers Girl but it was as if it didn’t matter. Things actually got very ugly once Alan and I became better friends - during orientation, I learned that dating the managers was a no-no, but no one said anything about just hanging out. So when Alan and I started hanging out, going out for drinks, closing down the bars, chilling at his house and watching movies and stuff, things really got out of hand. Alan almost lost his job. It was terrible, and all because some gossipy queen had to open his big-ass mouth. By the time it happened, I had already realized that there was no money to be made in Ohio and had put in my two weeks (after two weeks of working), so it didn’t affect my job at all, but Alan has child support to pay for, and I thought the whole thing was very unfair.

Anyway, the point is, Ohio is very black and white. There are very few shades of grey when it comes to the lifestyle. There are some parts you adore, there are some parts you vehemently hate. I loved the good people, I hated the bad ones. I loved the camraderie and hated the drama. I loved the job, I hated that I made no money at the job. I loved my new family, but hated that I had to leave. And after making $17 on a Sunday double, I definitely had to leave.

"Why don’t you just get a real job?" Earl and Lisa asked me one afternoon. I had come home on my break to practice my new obsession, playing Damien Rice’s "Cannonball" on guitar.
"I doubt there’d be much more money in that," I said. "All the local offices are starting at $8 an hour. I haven’t made that since my freshman year of college."
"But this is Ohio, sweetie."
"But Ohio isn’t the only place I want to be."

It wasn’t for lack of trying. I interviewed at all sorts of retail stores, but they all wanted me to wait until Thanksgiving, for seasonal work. I couldn’t wait that long, not if I ever wanted to be back out on the road. I bit the bullet and decided to come back home to Maryland, not because I wanted to but because the economy is better. So here I am, at my parent’s kitchen table, working seven days a week and writing in between. Sorry I’ve been so distant. I haven’t meant to be at all. And now that I’m home and on a more regular schedule, hopefully I can write many more stories of the funny things that happened in Ohio and in the short time I’ve been home - the crazy nights, the stirring conversations, the catharsis. And there’s been plenty.