If you’ve never missed the birthday of someone you love in order to serve maple syrup and coffee to demanding patrons or been unable to ask for time off on Mother’s Day, you probably won’t appreciate this column. If you don’t make ends meet in the restaurant industry, you are truly blessed.

The restaurant industry is a gluttonous, soul-devouring beast that feasts off of dignity and self-respect. Before I leave for each shift, I see myself in the mirror in my effeminate serving outfit and want to hang myself with my apron.

The industry has made me despise children, and I cringe whenever they are sat in my section. Parents that go out to eat with their kids rarely watch them properly, and it’s only a matter of time before the little accidents start crying or making a mess. When they are not ripping up the sugar packets and spilling them on the floor, then they are playing with toy cars and making annoying engine noises while I am trying to tell the distracted parents about the specials. The rest of the time children are shoving their grubby fingers in their disgusting mouths and then rubbing their saliva-soaked hands all over the table. After the parents and their little terrors leave, I get to wipe their caked spit off the dining surface.

The day in which I no longer have to memorize overpriced specialty drinks and lower myself to arrogant wine snobs will be the day that I do not curse waking up. This job puts a roof over my head and food in my stomach, so I put a smile on my face and never take my frustrations out on the customer. They are celebrating a special event, catching up with a loved one or just too tired to cook. The last thing they need or deserve is too have a pimply jerk pushing them out the door. The customer is always right, especially in the restaurant industry. That statement is not meant disingenuously or sarcastically, the customer is what enables all of us able to have a job. A customer can remember a special dining experience for the rest of his or her life, and they can just as easily remember an awful one. Usually they will remember the poor experience more clearly. My job is to make sure every customer leaves in a better mood than when they came in. I may not like the work, but I am damn serious about it.

On any given shift, a well-run restaurant will be a graceful ballet. There will be cohesion between the cooks and servers as well as an inexplicable sense of calm as the process unfolds. Guests will be seated, orders will be placed correctly and plates will be presented in an attractive manner. But basically, working in a restaurant is legal prostitution. I leave each shift with cash in pocket and wanting to shower just to get the stench off. Even after that I still feel filthy and ashamed. There is a physical toll that comes with restaurant work as well. It may not be as punishing on the body as bending and stooping in fields or day or construction, but I have seen some horrific accidents in the kitchen.

One vivid memory I don’t want is when a prep cook had the meaty part of his hand meet the spinning razor that is a deli slicer. I have seen the second and third degree burns that occur when a stockpot filled with hot soup gets dropped on someone, and their skin bubbles and cracks like wilted spinach. The industry is wreaking havoc on my body, but my creaky knees and perpetually-swelling shins look vain and minor in comparison to what those who are close to me have been through.

So why stay in it? I can only think of two reasons. The first reason is the oldest reason in the world, money. On exceptional nights, I have walked with as much as $200 as a busboy and $500 as a server.

Over the past few months, it has become extremely difficult to achieve financial security while working in the restaurant industry. The sagging economy and plethora of restaurants in this area have made it harder for me to have a reliable source of income. I used to have my rent and bills paid by the middle of the month, now I’m picking up lunch shifts whenever I don’t have class just to make ends meet.

Despite my personal struggles, the restaurant industry as a whole keeps growing. According to the National Restaurant Association website, the industry racked up $558 billion in sales in 2007 and is expected to surpass that this year. However, most of the revenue is from fast food chains. Casual dining restaurants are feeling the squeeze as a full-blown recession is about to begin. This is an awful time to be a server.

The second reason I still choose this line of work is because I ‘m not qualified to do anything else. I am in no way saying that everyone who works for a restaurant does so because they are not qualified to do anything else, I am only referring to myself. There are many bartenders and servers with college degrees that work in the industry because it pays more. Others do it because they honestly like the work.

Servers, bartenders, bussers and hostesses work short shifts and leave with cash. Back of the house staff, prep cooks and dishwashers, often work two jobs and are grossly underpaid. Most of the dishwashers I have worked with are illegal immigrants that speak little to no English and just want a chance at a better life. These guys and girls work hunched over for in a hours at a time, getting soaked with dirty dish water and getting burned by hot pans. Then they get the unrivaled pleasure of watching servers and busboys work for a handful of hours and walk with more cash than they get all week. Some decent people in the restaurant industry, though they are few and far between, will give some of their tips to the dishwashers and cooks.

Another unfair aspect about the restaurant industry that makes me want to bail after every shift is how we are taxed into oppression. We are dinged on our hourly minimum wage as well as our tips. The IRS insists on servers claiming all off their tips, but most servers claim less than half. In the past, servers could skirt the IRS easily because most of the transactions were with cash. The use of credit cards and debit cards have made it easier to track a servers income, so customers in the know always tip in cash.

The restaurant industry is evil. Someday I will be fortunate enough to leave this line of work and never have to carry trays, fold napkins or do any other mindless side work for the rest of my dismal existence. My diploma from Sacramento State and the contacts I make at the upcoming Career Fair should keep me from ever having to work a Sunday brunch again.

Jordan Guinn can be reached at [email protected]