My first job was at Taco Time, a fast-food Mexican chain based in the Pacific Northwest. I made burritos and worked the cash register on evenings and weekends. Soon, I got promoted to “Opener and Closer,” and my wage increased by .25 cents an hour to $3.50. I wasn’t even old enough to drive, but I was given the keys to the store at the age of 15. I loved being in charge of things, even at that age. 

After Taco Time, I started bussing tables and serving at a 50s diner, where I had to wear a poodle skirt and saddle shoes. Eventually, I transitioned into fine dining. I still remember those pre-shift huddles where Chef would present the nightly specials to the FOH staff, and the bar manager would talk about wine pairings and how specific varietals would balance a dish. My lifelong love of food and wine comes from this period of my life.

I spent a decade working in the restaurant industry and deeply respect everyone that does. It’s hard work and sometimes humiliating (see note about poodle skirt). You get to know the types of people out there and develop the kind of grit that comes with doing your job, even when you don’t like the people you’re serving. Sometimes, you have to get in there and get your hands dirty. Sometimes, you pour water for the tables that aren’t in your section without being asked because your coworker is out having a smoke in the alley. Sometimes, you curse because the work is really hard, and you feel demeaned. But you keep your chin up anyway.

In restaurants, you learn that when funny, creative and passionate people come together, anything is possible. And tomorrow you begin anew.