NYC 2018: My Working Experience As a Waiter
Hey
What's Popping?
(Can't get over it since I heard Cardi B saying)
To begin this post I wanna give you the full picture of the reality of things before I moved to NYC. Being completely honest I never had to work to support myself or to help out in my family's monthly income however I had this very strong independent personality since I was very young. It was important to me to know I earned everything I had and everything I'd conquer so I got my first job when I was 15 years old at a mall close to my school and I never stopped making my own money ever since. Later on, I got into modeling but it felt shallow and an unfair business to me but I'll tell y'all more about this experience in another post. A few months before I finished my last High School year I got a job as an English Teacher at the school where I was studying English. It wasn't a surprise that I got the job 'cause (don't get me wrong) I was pretty good at it but the surprise part for me was that I fell in love with the profession and at that moment there was nothing else I wanted to do with my life so I focused on being the best Teacher one could be. I wanted to be different from the ones I had and be more like the ones who changed my life. Finally I was doing something meaningful not only for me but for people. Something that was supposed to be a temp job became one of my passions in life. Why am I telling y'all this? Well, even tough I'm majoring in another field I was happy with the work that I was doing. And I knew that.
Two years ago I decided to move to NYC, it was time to leave all of the numbness that my life had become here in Brazil and chase my happiness or whatever that means. I've been to New York once before for a pretty decent amount of time which made me think I already knew how it was like to actually live there. I made a list of things that should be done by me before I started saving money. I wrote down my goals and expectations for this adventure and within a year I was ready to save money. I started to prepare my mind for this experience by watching people's story, people who had done what I was about to do. Thus, it was clear to me that everything would change drastically. I knew I'd have to work as a waiter because it was the only thing I knew I could do for a while. I knew I couldn't do what most immigrants do which is working with manual work it was clear to me I didn't have the physical strength for that. Being a waiter was what I had left, I knew I wouldn't have troubles with the language and I looked cute wearing aprons (lol) but I knew that doing something I didn't care for would be an issue sooner or later but I had to see for myself how much could I take. I had to try. I'd hate myself if I didn't give myself the chance to persue my dreams even if that meant doing something I was utterly uncomfortable doing.
I had a pretty good plan designed for me. It was actually a guide of how I'd get a job as fast as I
could type of thing. I had this book with the names and contacts of every job agency in NYC.
Nothing could go wrong (so as I thought). I got there on a Friday and on the next Monday I got my first job, it was in a French Cafe called "Le Petit Cafe" in downtown Brooklyn. In the first agency I stopped by I got this job so I didn't have to look any other agencies from my list, they charged me U$150 to find me a job and I could quit within seven days and they'd find me another job. The lady who "got" me the job was really adorable and wished me the best of luck. I went home so excited to start in my first job in The Big Apple. I studied the menu and went to bed early. The next morning I went to the interview I had scheduled with the Café's owner Tonny, he talked to me through a window in the middle of the kitchen that divided the restaurant's reception and the lounge. It was less than five minutes before he asked if I could start the training the next day at the same time. I was surprised 'cause he'd only asked me if I had experience and if I lived far from the restaurant and that was it. I said yes and went home to study the menu some more and get ready to my first day.
I woke up early, had some coffee and left the apartment with time to spare. We never know, right?! It was a one hour and a half ride away, I lived in Manhattan and I had to go to Brooklyn. If you live in NYC you know exactly what I mean but if you don't just trust me when I say it's a long ride from one point to another. When I got there Alma was there already. She is the only waitress in there. At first I was a little cautious with her but she proved to be a great friend. I enjoyed almost everyone who worked there. I mean, the latinos. They were great people, very kind and funny to work with. But the owners were kinda rude to
them. The owner was a guy called Tommy as I've mentioned before. He spoke good Spanish so he could communicate perfectly with them and for my own luck I speak too so I knew what he was saying to them. It was often something bad besides the disrespectful jokes he used to make. He'd make us go out of the restaurant in a freezing cold without even giving us time to put on our jackets. But that's nothing compared to the amount of things one was expected to do. A waiter in there should execute multiple possitions. You had to be the waiter, the bartender, the cleaner, the cashier besides countless minor jobs they'd give us while we were doing our main job. The first day passed, I thought it'd get better but it didn't, the second was was worse and I decided to finish my training, get my money and go back to the agency.
I knew I'd miss Alma a lot. She became a great friend of mine. I made her work twice as much 'cause she had to do her job and supervise mine but she never complained or treated me badly. I knew I'd also miss the Cafe's costumers, they were really amazing. I got a lot of tips and good reviews which showed me I was wasting my time in there. This couple left me a tip two times higher than their check's total and also wrote down a review. It made me so happy. When the time to pay me came, the owner gave Alma my money and said I could take the money and go home. It was much less than they told me at the job agency and they didn't pay me my tips on top of that. Even though I was passed there was nothing i could do about it 'cause I had no right to say anything. I had nothing signed by then or any documents that would serve as proof of employment. I took that money, gave Alma a bear hug and left that place to never come back.
The next day I dropped by the agency and they got me another job to start right away. It was in a Spanish restaurant as a Busboy, which is a position under the waiter. It's like being the water's assistant. You don't take order but you get tips. This job was closer to where I was living and there were less responsibilities than the other place. I got there at the time I was informed to. David the owner asked me a few questions and explained me a few things, he seemed nice and polite. There was only another waitress but she looked angry and bothered with my presence there so I tried to be as helpful as possible and stay away from her when I had the chance. But every time she had something to say to me she yelled or whispered in Spanish what she wanted. They all spoke Spanish but unlike the other restaurant people here didn't speak good English and my Spanish wasn't that sharp so I had troubles understanding people in there. They'd say stuff about me and make jokes about me because they thought I wouldn't understand but I did. It was like high school all over again, I'd go to the bathroom to catch my breath and while I was in there I'd ask myself what I was doing there, being treated as shit by people not only in there but I'm general. It felt so stupid to me, I had so much more to offer to the world I couldn't help but thinking I was wasting my time being a waiter. I went home proud of myself for being who I was even with people treating me the way they were but also unfaithful of my job possibilities in NY.
The second day at the Riazor Cafe, I was excited. I decided to make the best of this experience and take as much crap from them as I could it'd be a spiritual lesson for me, to teach me patience and resilience. That day I'd be working alongside with the other waitress, David had the day off. I was a little afraid to be alone with her but I was feeling positive about things she couldn't ruin it all. But she did. She tried to make me loose my mind but I didn't I remained sane and did my job Even though she was yelling all the time and saying things in Spanish that only she could understand. While I was executing my duties like setting the tables I could see her looking at me with anger and hate in her eyes but I couldn't and I still can't get why. When this costumer started a conversation with me and gave me his business card I could see her face turning red in hate. At the end of the day I was exhausted, mentally tired and she was still unhappy with everything that I did or didn't do. When she asked me to clean up the cappuccino machine, I knew she was setting me up for failure but I tried a few minutes later I was
done with it she started to scream at me because I've "lost" a piece of the machine in the trash. I knew I didn't do that so I confronted her and she just stood there quiet listening to me. I told her what I had stuck down my throat. After that, I got my money and left but before I did I asked her to tell David I was going to wait for his call to know when I had to come back she said she was gonna give the message but somehow I didn't trust that. Two days later I call David to ask when I should go and he tells me It won't work out and give me these vague reasons, I knew that woman said something to him. So I said thanks and hang up the phone. I was devastated.
Working as a Teacher showed me a lot of things. How to be patient, how to respect people but it hasn't taught me how to swallow abuse from people that I work for. I know what I'm worth and it was clear to me I wasn't gonna be recognized for my brains in NYC not as a illegal immigrant, so I made the hardest decision of my life. I promised myself I'd work so hard that one day I'd be invited to come to NYC because of my intelligence by people who respected me for my work. I know it'll take some time, but I wanna get places with what I do best not with a job that only fulfill the goal of my employer. It made no sense to me to stay doing what I was doing there if I had the chance to be doing something I cared for in my country unfortunately many immigrants don't have this option I met people who really needed to take jobs like this, where employers would explore and underpay them 'cause they had no other opportunity back home and this is the best they'd do in life. I had many other reasons to come back to Brazil but I'll tell them all in another post 'cause this one is pretty long.
could type of thing. I had this book with the names and contacts of every job agency in NYC.
them. The owner was a guy called Tommy as I've mentioned before. He spoke good Spanish so he could communicate perfectly with them and for my own luck I speak too so I knew what he was saying to them. It was often something bad besides the disrespectful jokes he used to make. He'd make us go out of the restaurant in a freezing cold without even giving us time to put on our jackets. But that's nothing compared to the amount of things one was expected to do. A waiter in there should execute multiple possitions. You had to be the waiter, the bartender, the cleaner, the cashier besides countless minor jobs they'd give us while we were doing our main job. The first day passed, I thought it'd get better but it didn't, the second was was worse and I decided to finish my training, get my money and go back to the agency.
The second day at the Riazor Cafe, I was excited. I decided to make the best of this experience and take as much crap from them as I could it'd be a spiritual lesson for me, to teach me patience and resilience. That day I'd be working alongside with the other waitress, David had the day off. I was a little afraid to be alone with her but I was feeling positive about things she couldn't ruin it all. But she did. She tried to make me loose my mind but I didn't I remained sane and did my job Even though she was yelling all the time and saying things in Spanish that only she could understand. While I was executing my duties like setting the tables I could see her looking at me with anger and hate in her eyes but I couldn't and I still can't get why. When this costumer started a conversation with me and gave me his business card I could see her face turning red in hate. At the end of the day I was exhausted, mentally tired and she was still unhappy with everything that I did or didn't do. When she asked me to clean up the cappuccino machine, I knew she was setting me up for failure but I tried a few minutes later I was 
Working as a Teacher showed me a lot of things. How to be patient, how to respect people but it hasn't taught me how to swallow abuse from people that I work for. I know what I'm worth and it was clear to me I wasn't gonna be recognized for my brains in NYC not as a illegal immigrant, so I made the hardest decision of my life. I promised myself I'd work so hard that one day I'd be invited to come to NYC because of my intelligence by people who respected me for my work. I know it'll take some time, but I wanna get places with what I do best not with a job that only fulfill the goal of my employer. It made no sense to me to stay doing what I was doing there if I had the chance to be doing something I cared for in my country unfortunately many immigrants don't have this option I met people who really needed to take jobs like this, where employers would explore and underpay them 'cause they had no other opportunity back home and this is the best they'd do in life. I had many other reasons to come back to Brazil but I'll tell them all in another post 'cause this one is pretty long.
Thanks for reading!!!
SEEYA
Douglas Migliassi
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