Knowing My Limits by Elizabeth Scher
The greatest gift I ever received was getting fired for the first time. I, like so many in the restaurant industry, am a struggling performer. I had been making my way through the ebb and flow of constant rejection, and not necessarily handling it well.
For the past few years at this point, I had been bouncing around from restaurant to restaurant. I had just moved to New York in 2013 and was having difficulty finding my footing. Wherever I worked was filled with a myriad of issues. I never made enough money, there were never enough shifts, the managers were terrible, etc. There was rampant sexual harassment everywhere I worked. This, unfortunately, was to be expected.
I have been battling severe anxiety for years, which, at this point, been repressed to dangerous degrees. In July 2016 I reached a point where it could no longer be ignored. Realizing I could not safely live on my own, I went back home. I let my job know, and they were incredibly supportive. At no point did they show annoyance or belittle my experience, and I will forever be grateful for that. In fact, many of my coworkers and bosses could empathize seeing as how many have gone through similar issues themselves. Working in restaurants, you are bound to find people who have gone through what are patronizingly referred to as “imaginary problems”. Issues such as addiction, depression, anxiety, extreme anger, etc. Ailments where ignorant advice is given such as “just learn to smile more,” or “it’s all in your head.”
I eventually got to the point where I could live on my own and go back to work. I insisted that working in a restaurant was not contributing to my anxiety. In spite of the following events I still believe this to be true. The types of problems that arise in a restaurant are often immediately resolved. My anxiety is generally concerned with the abstract and/or long term. In a restaurant you have many problems at once, but there is often a clear solution. That being said, I did not go back to work full time. I felt, as did my doctor, that I needed to ease into normalcy. My wallet disagreed, but my body felt it necessary to listen. My job was very cooperative, yet again, and I was allowed to come back on a part-time basis. Based on how I have been talking about this place is seems like the ideal serving experience. It is, however, by far the most dramatic place I have ever worked. I have seen drunk servers fight customers. I, myself, pulled a knife out of a cook’s hands to stop him from cutting himself. One time a manager was fired for literally stalking another manager. This place made Maury seem like a lovely family reunion.
There is one important character that is integral to much of the drama that took place. His name is Jake. Jake was the bane of everyone’s existence. He was an annoyingly loud regular who was crude, young, rich, traditionally handsome, and had a hoard of fake friends at his disposal. The main bartender, Evan, who was also good friend of mine, happened to be rather fond of Jake. Jake essentially paid Evan’s entire salary so it’s hard not to see why Evan had his back. Jake is a truly disgusting person. He would sexually harass every woman, but that is to be expected. He manipulated a host into sending what I’ll politely call “suggestive” videos, and then showed them to all of his friends. He would hand out cocaine like it was candy as though we were some sort of drug Santa. He called one of my friends, a fellow server named Brittany, a “miserable cunt” and was subsequently “banned” for 10 days. He tried to go back the next day as if nothing happened. The only reason he even got reprimanded was because Brittany was leaving for graduate school at the end of the week. The minute she left he was back to his old antics with full force. He has done, and continues to do, terrible things with no punishment. The final straw for me was when he exposed himself to a coworker and a female manager. I personally witnessed the female manager reporting it to the the higher ups and nothing was done. Jake didn’t even so much get a slap on the wrist.
Jake started to weigh on my mind more than I care to admit. Before he was just a slimy irritation, but I never thought he actually would effect me in the way that he did. I started to have panic attacks about possible scenarios involving him. They were only in my imagination, but there was something different about them than my other panic induced downward spirals. Although these events were fabricated, they were not out of the realm of possibility. Jake’s money made him very appealing to the higher ups. He was even being courted as an investor for a future location. He was untouchable. I was starting to think that he could literally rape us and the owner would just say we shouldn’t have been in his way. Unrealistic, yes, but given the way rape is treated these days, that idea is more realistic than I wish it was.. At one point I literally broke down crying about this in the middle of Union Square. There I was, sitting on the sidewalk on a Saturday night, crying about a piece of shit who, frankly, had already mostly decided not to mess with me. I wasn’t exactly nice to him after he called Brittany a cunt.
One of the main lessons I took away from my mental breakdown was to stop repressing stress. I decided I needed to confront this issue. I couldn’t go to management because that had already proven to be futile. At best we were ignored and at worst we were openly mocked. What I decided to do was talk to Evan, the bartender, and my friend. Evan and I grew close because we would commute together. We would rant to each other, talk about our fears and frustrations, and confide in each other. He has fought and won many battles that I won’t go into out of respect for his privacy. He helped me while I was struggling and I will always love him for that. What I thought I could do is go to Evan, as a friend, with my fears about Jake seeing as he actually has some influence. Evan isn’t a manager, but he could deny service. Another thing to mention about Evan is that he is incredibly defensive and stubborn. He has alienated a lot of people who have confronted him about similar issues. I knew that if I confronted him there was a possibility that I could lose a friend. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but I had no choice. The conversation went exactly as I expected. I was crying, he was yelling, I was saying we don’t feel safe, he said I should have gone to management and not him. I said that these were panic induced thoughts, but felt they were still legitimate worries. I suggested that Jake not be given so many “perks” which, I felt, validated his behavior. I also said that Evan encouraged this behavior. He did not take kindly to that. Both of us were emotional and probably not as articulate as we could have been. I had to go to work as he was leaving for the day. I went to cry before my shift, he went right to management.
I left for a little while because I was already scheduled to go on vacation with my family. I came back after about ten days where I learned I was no longer allowed to work shifts until I have a talk with the general manager. My coworkers agreed that I was probably going to be fired in this “talk.” We all agreed that this was, in fact, probably what I needed. This place was making me miserable and the environment was toxic. Lo and behold, I come in the next morning and I have the “talk.” The general manager said I was “causing unnecessary drama.” and they can’t have that, especially from a part-time employee. I then asked him if I could explain why I did what I did. I did not hold back. I explained how I was coming to Evan as a friend, how going to management was futile, and how genuinely terrified we all are around Jake at times. I also made a point to tell him about how Brittany, the aforementioned “miserable cunt,” had gone to the owner the day before that incident occurred. She went to the owner, with another manager, and raised her concerns about Jake. She stated that he is always condescending and sexually harasses her. She had also said that she was afraid to go to the owner about this because she was scared to talk negatively about his friend. The owner’s response to these concerns was “well next time they do that say ‘yeah, well Evan doesn’t have these,’” and made fake breast gestures. It bears repeating that this was in front of another manager; the general manager apparently never knew about that incident. I also thanked the general manager for treating me so well when I needed the time off. It is a rare thing, and I still wanted to show appreciation.
I am not happy about how the confrontation went down, but I am happy I did it. If I had to get fired for anything I’m happy it was for standing up for myself and my coworkers. The whole experience made me realize that I never want to work in restaurants ever again. I wish I could say this type of incident is uncommon. I can’t count how many times a female coworker, at any restaurant I’ve worked, has encountered sexual harassment that has made them feel genuinely unsafe. At one point or another, at this place, every single female staff member had to be talked out of quitting over the sexism. We all said the same line: “it’s just part of the job.”
I learned that I can be a commanding force if I need to be. The whole experience has made me stronger. I still battle with anxiety daily and I am adjusting to the treatment I receive for it, but it has made me a better person. I’ve realized that learning how to get rid of unnecessary stress is difficult, but crucial. The second I walked out of that restaurant after being fired a huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders, as cliche as that sounds. I mean that in a very real sense; I feel lighter. Job searching is awful, but I will take that any day over forcing myself to suppress more anxiety. I know my limits. More importantly, I know how to properly expand my limits without causing more stress. Baby steps are crucial and not a sign of weakness. I always thought that getting fired would be humiliating. I never considered that it could be the most empowering thing that has happened to me. I will be forever grateful.
