Lesson 11: Where inspiration comes from

In the wee hours of the night, my boyfriend and I decided to grab a bite at the local Waffle House. It was just past 2am, so I knew the place would be packed with young, drunken -- and hungry -- bar hoppers.

We sat at the bar in the middle of the restaurant right in front of the cooks since nothing else was open. There were about 6 employees, and they all seemed quite flustered. Only two of them were cooking and the rest were... well I really don't know. For the most part, they either stood there, either doing nothing or yelling out orders, or they unproductively paced back and forth.

About 10 or 15 minutes passed by and we still hadn't gotten a chance to place an order. No one even acknowledged us. Finally, I got the attention of a "salesperson" named Harriet. She was an older woman with red, shoulder-length hair and glasses. I asked her if we could order and she told us to hold one second. I watched her as she slowly walked to the register with a disgruntled look, paused, then came back and took her notepad out of her pocket and asked what we wanted. The walk to the register and pausing must have been the second she literally took to get the gears cranking in her nice little wrinkled head. "Oh, order means I write stuff down."

After she took our order -- which was a somewhat awkward moment -- I watched her as she slowly walked towards the register again. I then fixed my attention on the cooks and we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I didn't see any bacon-egg-and-cheese biscuits being cooked. The guy seated next to us came about 5-10 minutes after we did and he had already gotten his full meal. Finally, I got Harriet's attention again. She had to do a walk to the cooks and back a few times before she finally took her notepad out and said, "I'm sorry, I'll have to get your order again."

We eventually got our food and Harriet gave us an early check. I already knew the bill would add up to about $5-6, but it came out to over $10. My boyfriend's order was calculated wrong. We got the attention of another employee to confirm, and she also said it was wrong.

Pay time. My boyfriend asked about the check and Harriet said, "This is actually right... that's how we calculate these now, but I'll just go ahead and take that off..." The other employee I talked to earlier was behind her. We made eye contact and the woman rolled her eyes at Harriet's statement. The re-rung bill came to about $6, as I suspected. Being $4 off is a lot, considering how cheap the food usually is there.

We walked out of there irritated. My boyfriend said, "That lady was really pissing me off. I was really holding it back."

This scene is a learning experience, as much as it was annoying. Obviously employees at Waffle House aren't meant to be world-class, but I've been there several times and have never come across a crew of employees as disorganized as the ones I witnessed last night. It makes me think about where I am now and where I'll be ending up in the next 10 years. I know I won't be looking for a job just so I can have one. I've chosen a career that will give me some free time so I don't have to bust my ass all night by succumbing to the stomachs of drunken college students. I feel reassured that I have a few good brain cells.

I like where I am going to be.