Saturday, November 2, 2013

Week 11 sample 3

“Welcome to Vacationland.”

“The way life should be.”

Slogans that lure strangers from afar to this northern state of New England to explore what it has to offer. Autumn being harvest season, it’s when we reap the rewards, it is the season of the leaf peepers, the newly weds and nearly deads.”

They come by road and by sea, in car or tour buses, on boats or cruise ships. All on their own adventures with hopes of catching a glimpse of a moose or maybe a whale, or to explore the great outdoors; whatever their adventures may be all these vacationers will soon grow hungry.

Melissa and I begin our opening shift by brewing coffee, icing creamers and lemons, setting up plates with butter packets and miniature pitches for maple syrup. And checking our sections for full sugar and jelly caddies.

The fog rolls up the street, and enchants me with its mist, can’t even see the cruise ships in the harbor. Today's passenger and crew totals over 7,000; now that’s not to say that they all tender in, or that they are all coming to the restaurant for meals or for our bus tour tickets, nonetheless we prepare.

At some tables you can’t even get the words, “Good Morning” out of your mouth, and the transient diner barks for coffee. I just close my mouth, bow my head and go fetch. I am more than just a vehicle to the nectar of the bean.

There are the diners that say good morning back to you, and ask how you are; as you take your breath to reply they cut you off and tell you what they will have. There are two creatures of this world,one:

“I want two eggs and toast.” The woman confirms.

“How do you want your eggs? I ask.

“Sunny side-up.”

White, wheat or rye? I ask.

“Wheat.”

“And you have a choice of homes fries or grits?

“Yes.”

“Which?” I must ask.

“Oh, um, home fries.”

Then there are the others creatures;

“I want coffee black and my wife’s with cream and sugar. She will have blueberry
pancakes, real maple syrup and bacon well done. I a spinach and goat cheese omelet, wheat toast dry, home fries crispy, and orange juices with our meal.”
Followed by, “Oh and we are on your bus tour of the park, and we need to board in thirty minutes.”

Meanwhile I am standing there with one pot regular and one pot decafe and all I had asked was, “Would ya like coffee?”

Interactions with the transient diners like this continue relentlessly throughout the day. Passing dialogue, filled with questions on each side, and repeated answers, and inflection of tone as patience thins either mine or theirs.
All amongst the clamoring and clanging of dishes, and those god damn coffee cups, half empty begging to be filled and to be warmed.The checks that need printing, the printer that needs paper; those plates in the kitchen grow hotter the longer they sit dying in the window, the voids, the separate checks, and the ten percenters.

Then there’s Andy cussing behind the line at all the orders that just came in all at once. Tis the season of the leaf peepers, the newly weds and the nearly deads; we survived another grueling day of cruise ship season and the turn and burn beast that is breakfast.

***************************************


Welcome to Vacationland, the way life should be,” a slogan that lures strangers from afar to this northern state of New England to explore the great outdoors, the rugged coastline and what Maine has to offer.

The season for a coastal tourist town is short lived; it begins early May and ends late October, along with cruise ship season. The town thrives, and makes it's livelihood off these tourists. The peaks of the season come in waves. The spring breathes life back into the village, the shops open their doors and streets fill.

The official kickoff begins the Forth of July and continues straight on through, till Labor Day weekend. Autumn dawns the season of the leaf peepers, the newly weds, and the nearly deads. With the kids back in school, the real harvest season begins, the cruise ships come to port almost everyday, two by two.
***

All season long they come all on their own adventures with hopes of catching a glimpse of a moose or a whale, maybe to go hiking and biking, or to shop the streets of an old coastal town. Whatever their adventures may be all these vacationers will soon grow hungry.

At some tables you can’t even get the words, “Good Morning” out of your mouth, and the transient diner barks for coffee. In the restaurant business you just close your mouth, bow your head and go fetch. But let it be know, servers are more than just vehicles to the nectar of the bean.

There are two creatures of the dinning world one:
“I want two eggs, and toast.” The woman confirms. These are the kind you must pry for information.

Then there are the others;

“I want coffee black and my wife’s with cream and sugar. She will have blueberry pancakes, real maple syrup and bacon well done. I a spinach and goat cheese omelet, wheat toast dry, home fries crispy. Oh and we are on your bus tour of the park, and we need to board in thirty minutes.”

Meanwhile your standing there with one pot regular and one decafe and all you asked was, "Would ya like coffee?"

Transient dinners also think that you are their tour guide as well as their server.They too will pry you for information, and lots of it.

They want to know, “Where is the closest Starbucks?”

Your answer, “Sixty miles inland.” (You came to Maine to go to Starbucks?)

“Inland? We’re on an island?”

Your answer, “Do you remember the bridge with the water on both sides?”

They want to know why they can’t check their email on their super-duper phones. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a 3G network?”

Your answer, “A 3 G, what? Welcome to Maine!”

All amongst the clamoring and clanging of dishes, and those god damn coffee cups half empty begging to be warmed.

When breakfast is all said and done the upstairs dinning room opens for lunch. They sit in the dinning room and answer their cell phones and yell into the receiver telling how they spent their day in Arcadia as they look over the menu. (When in fact they are in Acadia,on the other side of the country.) They see we offer a boiled lobster dinner.

They want to know, “Well can’t I just have the tail?”

Your answer, “You’re in Maine maim, it’s a pound and a quarter lobster,shell and all!”

“I have to pick it myself?” Some say with disgust.

Your answer, “We offer a lazy man’s lobster.”(For an extra charge.)“Fresh picked lobster meat sautéed in butter or white wine.”

They view of the bay can be seen through the dinning room windows; the sand bar exposed at low tide, the Porcupine Islands, and the boats bobbing along in the water. They then want to know,

“What’s the name of the lake out there?”

Your answer, “The Atlantic.”

Then they want to know, “How do they get all the boats to park in the same
direction?”

Your answer, “Harbor Master, Charlie he does valet parking.”

Interactions with the transient diners like this continue relentlessly throughout the day. The turning and burning of tables, passing dialogue, filled with questions on each side, repeated questions and repeated answers, and inflection in tone as patience thins either mine or theirs.

The kitchen doors swing open once more, the hot plates grow hotter the longer they sit dying in the window, the checks that need printing, the printer that needs paper. The voids, the separate checks, the ten percenters and Andy cussing behind the line at all the orders that came in all at once.

Not all your comments got you as far as you wanted; the directions, the full “Taste of Maine” you just served them. No, still they want more from you; they will pry you for personal information, which has already been discussed, “those old biddies bugging about babies.”

While presenting the check, you collect their plates and they want to know,

“What you do in the winter?”

Your answer: “Hibernate, and wait for spring.”

***

The season for a coastal tourist town is short lived; Autumn exhales the life out of the town, and the shops board up their fronts for winter and the streets empty.The leaf peepers, the newly weds and the nearly deads have all gone back to where they came from. They have explored this great northern state of New England with it's great outdoors and rugged coastline.

The peaks of the season come in ways; and the harvest is over. That’s just the thing about Vacationland and the way life should be; they go just as they came.
Posted by Stargaizer_Lily at 8:39 PM 3 comments Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Google Buzz
Labels: Week 11 Authorial/expertise

1 comment:

  1. “Oh and we are on your bus tour of the park, and we need to board in thirty minutes.”......

    Didn't reading that part bring about some flashbacks. I like when I can connect in personal ways to what I read.

    ReplyDelete