Leaving The Life Of Video Rental

I worked at a video store during the last part of high school and for my first semester at college. It was late November when I decided to quit the video store and look for a job as a hostess at a restaurant. I was dating a guy, Cal, we’ll call him, who worked as a server at O’Charley’s. He was 24, and I had just turned 18. I thought he was incredibly worldly and intelligent, although it turns out I was wrong about that. Anyway, our first few weeks of dating consisted of me hanging out after hours around the bar where he worked while he finished up and clocked out. We’d drink white zin and screwdrivers while his managers looked the other way. I liked the atmosphere there. It was obviously lax and even sophisticated for a girl who grew up in a city in a dry county. I’d learned from Cal that hostess jobs were easier to come by than server jobs, and that as long as you are at least 18 and female you could get on pretty easily. Lucky for me I was both.

One day I decided to skip all my classes to go out and look for that hosting job. The night was spent at Cal’s house, holed up in his room, just like most every night. I was going to school (barely) about an hour and half away. I transferred the following year, but for a while I was putting some serious mileage on my Piece of Shit car. And getting virtually no sleep. I remember driving back to college once from his house and thinking, in what seemed like a completely rational manner, "I can just close my eyes for a second. Just for a second. It will be fine." It’s a wonder I didn’t kill myself on the road to and fro, lo those years ago. On one drive I distinctly remember having a dream while driving! Not good. I was very lucky and incredibly stupid at 18. But, I digress.

I decided to blow off school for a valid reason for once, I thought. I was going to make a career move. I was going to ditch my dead end clerk job at Movie Gallery in Ashland City, mere minutes from where my parents lived, and find a job at a hot little eatery downtown. Something hip.

I awoke that morning and put on the thing I thought looked best on me. A ribbed turtleneck and some holey jeans that one belonged to my stepfather. When I twirled on Cal’s bed showing him my outfit he just shook his head.

"I think you ought to dress up more. Sure, it’s a restaurant, but you want to make a good impression," Cal told me, softening the blow with a smile. His tone really said, "You dumb bitch, what are you thinking with that on?" Looking back, I can’t blame him.

I drove over to Stones River Mall to look for something suitable to wear. It was easier than going all the way back to Ashland City where all my clothes were. You see, by this time I’d lost my scholarship (long story, not quite as bad as it sounds) and had moved back home with Mom and Stepdad. Dorm life in Clarksville was over. I cried, but it was no huge loss. I’d be transferring the next year anyway.

Oh yeah, Stones River Mall. It is still in operation, and may be the worst mall in the great state of Tennessee. There’s a cookie store, a meager bookstore, a J.C. Penney’s, a Sears and that’s about it. I think I ended up buying a skirt and top from the only store worth looking into really (at that time), American Eagle. I came out looking generic as hell, but at least there weren’t holes in it.

I needed to find a job close to home, but on the way to Cal’s house. So, I hopped in my Piece of Shit car and headed to Nashville. West End. I’d just get off on the exit at 440 and start at the top. I was newly adult, wearing a brand new corduroy skirt with matching blouse, and ready to take on the city.

[This is installment one in a retrospective series I’m starting about working in the restaurant industry.  It will attempt to tell the tale of my ten year stint "in the trenches" as one of my bosses used to say. (Constantly.) Names and other minor details will be changed to protect the not-so-innocent. But the rest is totally true. Or at least that’s how I remember it. To read just the installments in this series, click on The Restaurant Chronicles in the category cloud on the right-hand column.]