“I am not a waitress” by Sasha at her coffee table

Saturday December 8, 2018
5 minutes
A Common Trap
Caitlin Thomson

I am not a waitress. I now have a job where I marry several of my skills, make the money I deserve, and have a cushy benefits package. It’s weird writing that. It still doesn’t totally feel real. I was a waitress for over a decade, and, to be honest, mostly I liked it. The rush of a good service, the camaraderie, the jokes, the sweet satisfaction of finding the right balance for each table in my section of quirk and charm, attention and space. The late nights, though… And the boozing culture. And the folks’ who would treat me like I was their servant. I remember a co-worker at a fancy beer restaurant in the financial district talking about these suits and ties who would come in and treat him like trash and meanwhile he’s smirking on the inside that he makes more than them annually, but just so happens to do it delivering mussels and swiping credit cards.

“In my house we never had enough” by Sasha on the pullout

Tuesday March 8, 2016
5 minutes
The Artist’s Way
Julia Cameron

I try to take her plate away and she flips! “I’m not FINISHED!” So I feel like shit, like I’ve tried to rip a bottle away from a newborn or something and then she shoots me devil eyes for the next half hour… But I love my job. I really do. I love my new job. I love it because you have to be in the present, you know? You have to be current. You can’t get ahead of yourself or think about that rent’s due in a week or your boyfriend was an asshole this morning or whatever because all you’re thinking is “bacon or sausage? Milk or cream? Sunny-side up or scrambled? Cheddar or feta?” And there’s something about that’s that is really refreshing.

“party town ballon time!” by Sasha in the bath

Wednesday November 12, 2014
5 minutes
From a text from Bec

Hey babe,
How’s it going? How was Jenny’s birthday? Party town balloon time?! I wish I could’ve been there. I miss you sooooooooo much. Like, you don’t even know. It sucks being here. My Dad is cool and my Mom is trying her best not to be a bitch but my brother? Oh my god. I honestly think that he’s an undiagnosed sociopath. Like, fully. He’s collecting dead bugs and archiving them on his wall. The wall of his room. My Mom says, “Leave him be…” as though there’s nothing weird going on at all. And he is totally obsessed with video games. He has a TV in his room now and sometimes he doesn’t even come out for meals. Mom leaves food outside his door like he’s in prison. It’s so weird. If I didn’t have Denny’s I would shoot myself in the head. But, I’m saving money, so that’s good. I guess. Ever since that DUI my parents aren’t helping with tuition so… I have to do what I have to do. I don’t want to be a bum my whole life so I have to finish this stupid degree.

“Compliment, Congratulate” by Sasha on her couch

Saturday January 4, 2014
5 minutes
Actions-The Actor’s Thesaurus Marina Calderone and Maggie Lloyd-Williams

“I’ll have the garden salad and then I’ll have the Rigatoni.” “I’ll have the soup and Lasagna.” “I’ll have a beer. What do you have on tap?” “We don’t have beer on tap. Only in the bottle.” “I’ll have a Stella.” “We don’t have Stella.” “What do you have?” “The closest thing to Stella we have is probably Peroni…” “I hate Peroni…” “Well…” “Steven, stop being a dick.” “Ummmm…” “I’ll have a glass of Chianti.” “Great choice.”
Step. Step, step step step. Step. Step.
“Ohmygawd I have the worst friggin table…” “Yeah?” “Yeah! Like total friggin bitchfaces!” “What did they – ” “Can I get more bread? Can I get more hot water with lemon? Can I get a punch to the face? Um… Do you have a bathroom?! NO! NO we don’t. We don’t have a bathroom where you can vomit up your cream sauce and snort a rail! Sorry! Fuck you very much!”
Step step step step.
“It says “Chianti.” “Shit.” Pour. “Thanks.”
“Your wine, sir.” “Yup.”
Step step step step step step step.