I have to interrupt this post for some important news: I got a job at Starbucks. I know I promised you the “Tale of the Ugly Redhead,” and believe you me, it is still coming; but it is not everyday that something life-changing happens, so I feel I must interrupt the following 500 words with this report.
Stumbling home from Abigail’s last July, I can remember vividly saying to myself: in September things will be different. Once summer is over, my life and bank account balance will level out. I will come home early each night after work, and wake up even earlier the next morning to work on my novel.
Bussing home from Hell’s Kitchen in September, I can remember vividly saying to myself: in November, things will be different. With the rain and colder temperatures, there is no possible way I will be staying out late six nights a week. I will open my curtains to overcast skies each morning and be rendered immobile, with only enough energy to sit at my desk and type.
Cabbing home from Maenam Thursday night, I realized two things: the first being that I don’t like going home to an empty apartment at night (will elaborate on my pathological fear of being alone in a later post), the second being that my life was not going to change unless I changed it. And so, the following day I walked to the Starbucks a block from my place and dropped off my resume.
Three interviews and free tall darks later, I was hired yesterday morning as a full-time Shift Supervisor.
Informing my restaurant manager last night that I would be reducing my availability to two shifts a week in the New Year, he questioned me “how can you possibly make more money at Starbucks than you can here?” Answering him earnestly in not these exact words, I said “I can’t. I estimate this career-change will equate to roughly a $600-$700 dollar loss in monthly income. That is why I still need to work two nights a week.”
There is no doubt that serving is about the money. Having scoped out the job market for the past few months, I have learned that even with an English degree, other than answering phones at a cable or hydro company, there is no way I can earn the same income as I do working three to four hours a night in a busy restaurant. However, from my personal experience these last two years, I have learned that when it comes to personal health and well-being, serving tables carries no value.
This change terrifies me, and so it should. I am exchanging a twenty-hour work week for a fifty-hour one in hopes that somehow, I will get more work done. I guess my only hope is that six months down the road, things will be different. Either that or I will bussing home from some place in Surrey that serves dirt cheap beer.
“Why Starbucks?” the district manager for South Vancouver asked me at 8:35 yesterday morning. My answer rehearsed from the previous two interviews, I said “First and foremost, I have always felt safe and welcome at Starbucks. The hair salon of the 21st century, I have always held true to the belief that the massive corporation is a sanctuary for fabulous gay men. (Alright maybe I didn’t say that last sentence, but I thought it.) Second, I am looking for structure, stability and routine in my day-to-day life and I believe if everything works out, I might come close to finding it here. And third, I spend enough time in the bloody café, I might as well start getting paid for it.”
Woo! I’m so excited for this change for you- honestly not working into the middle of the night all the time and not being in the same Heavy Drinking culture sounds amazing. If you’re not happy where you are now, changing it is the only way to see how this works- and if the worst case scenario is you’re in the exact same spot in three months that you would have been working at the restaurant I think it’s worth the change.
That’s so exciting for you – which Starbucks are you at?? I’ll come visit and order excruciatingly long drinks and then change my mind. Hell’s Kitchen has good food too, I’ve been there only once so far and liked it.