Chapter #7
[Scrap #1] Getting a driving licence was one of the keys to finding a job in America. It was a form of an ID and a proof that you were in the country legally. The test consisted of two parts - a written and a practical one. I had passed the written test not long after my arrival. In Poland in order to pass the test I had to take several hours of practice under an eye of a certified driving instructor. Here all I had to do was to show up with my vehicle on the day of my appointment. I could pick for an instructor anyone who was over eighteen and had a valid licence. Since I was going to borrow Kamil's car it was only natural that I would go with him for an evening ride just to get a good feel of the vehicle. It was late in the evening and I immediately tensed up when we entered the road. Kamil decided to take his role seriously and rather than making it a pleasant ride around town he simulated a real test asking questions about traffic rules, current speed limit and commanding me to turn left or right.
[Scrap #2] Suddenly the speed limit signs seemed not to be large enough. Traffic lights would switch from red to green without any yellow in the middle. There was a 'dip' warning sign before intersections which ignored. From the sound of undercarriage hitting the surface I quickly discovered it meant to slow cars down. Luckily the air conditioning in the car was working properly because it suddenly became very hot. We continued towards the freeway. Kamil instructed me to take the entrance. Soon we found ourselves merging into a lane just in front of an oncoming truck. In panic I seemed to have lost my vision so I took the next exit completely ignoring Kamil's instructions. We drove back home in silence along Gerald Ford Drive, one of many streets names after desert's famous residents. The temperatures at night were now dropping to below 80s so you just wanted to open a window and let the air blow in your face. Those were those 'balmy nights' that the brochures were talking about. My adrenaline levels were now coming down and I could finally indulge myself in everything around. Needless to say, a few days later I passed the test with no major complaint.
[Scrap #3] My hope of working full time on the floor of Athena's was completely lost when shortly after firing of Juan and Rosa I saw a new waiter serving the table. Brenda didn't even ask me to help him out. She kept saying that everything was going to be fine and not be worried but I knew she wasn't honest. I'm not sure whether she didn't think I was good enough or somehow was an accessory to the whole money affair. It was time to start looking for a backup option. My corner job was pretty stable and the money was going to be enough to pay for the rent and bills so I could take my time and quit when needed. One evening Akira and I drove to a Carl's Junior to get our traditional order of a Famous Star burger. As the refills were free we would always share just one Coke. There was an Italian restaurant across the street so on the way back I asked him to drive by it. With all the expensive cars parked outside it looked intimidating. I doubted anyone would ever hire me there. I could only imagine what the tips must have been like.
[Scrap #4] I rode back to the restaurant a few days later. It was empty this time but the front door was opened. The inside was much bigger than what I expected. I noticed a man in a white outfit sitting at the bar. I asked for a manager and he replied that he could probably help me. I explained that I was here to study, that I worked hard and was desperately looking for a job as a waiter. Surprisingly, rather than just sending me away he asked about my current place of work. Brian, his name was engraved on his pocket, had heard about Athena's. After making some jokes about Greek food he explained that as the chef he was not in charge of the the floor but there was an opening in the kitchen. His current 'expeditor' was getting busy and they were looking for an assistant. I was not quite clear what my responsibilities were going to be but when I heard I would be getting a share of tips from ALL of the waiters I immediately said yes. I was supposed to report back on Friday at 6pm wearing a white shirt, black shoes and black pants.
[Scrap #5] When I showed up back at the restaurant Brian wasn't there. Instead, I spoke to a man in a immaculate suit standing at the front desk greeting me with his smile. The place became intimidating again. I explained to the man that I was there to start my work. "I thought we already had an expeditor" he responded. My heart was sinking while the man picked up the phone. I just stood there with my fingers crossed. After a short conversation, I assumed he called Brian, the man went through a door to the left and came out with a tall guy in a white outfit. "Kurt will show you the kitchen". It turned out that the man at the front was Michael - he and his brother owned the place. Kurt shook my hand, smiled and led me inside. The kitchen was much bigger than the one at Athena's. There was a partition running along the room with cooks on the other side. The kitchen was separated into three areas - salads and deserts, pastas and meat dishes. At the end there was a dish washing station and a big refrigerating room and an exit door leading to an alley.
[Scrap #6] Andy arrived an hour later and after a five hour shift I had finally learned what the role of expeditor involved. There were over fifty tables at the restaurant and all of the orders would come to the kitchen through a small printer on Kurt's side. He would take two slips, hand one of them on his side and then hand over the other to Andy. The expeditor was responsible for picking up a tray and putting the orders together, make sure the plates were clean, steaks had proper knives. Then we had to find a runner who was assigned to an assistant which who was then assigned to a waiter serving particular table. Sometimes we would also need take 'to go' orders directly to the bar. On top of that, the responsibility also involved making sure coffee pots behind were always full and shelves fully restocked with glasses. All of that while people were running through the kitchen screaming both in Spanish and English and cooks shoving plates and yelling for someone to make room for more. I was exhausted but at the end I held twenty dollars of tips in my pocket and there were more to come.
[Scrap #7] Byran would always start his work early in the morning and by the time he came I would now be most of the time working in the restaurant. I could count on four to five shifts a week. My favourite time with him when we would sit at the kitchen table. He would occasionally pull out a bottle of Grand Marinier. The pouring process was in itself a ritual. Byran would raise his finger for silence and we would listen to the 'popping' sound made by the drink leaving the bottle. "So what natural resources does Poland have?". He had a tendency of asking this question to anyone that visited the house. The answer did not matter as he would ask the same question in the future. We would talk about anything. If you had any worry Byran might have not the answer but you could always be sure that he would listen to it with full attention. The evening would usually end at the backyard where someday the middle in the ground would turn into the pool. We would sit in silence looking in the stars on a clear desert sky wondering what the future was going to bring.
[Scrap #8] One day Akira suggested that we should look into an apartment that soon was going to be vacated by a pair of Japanese students. We had been talking of moving together for a while. The place was not too bad - it was a two bedroom apartment with a living room and swimming pool. With the price of 350 dollars each (and a communal pool) it was a pretty good bargain. We decided to take it. I told Byran about the news the same evening - he seemed to be understanding although did warn me about having potential roommate problems. "Remember you can always come back" he assured me. I felt bad about leaving but I was also pretty excited. It was going to be my first real student accommodation! The previous tenants didn't leave much apart from a couch and an old TV in the living room. We bought a DVD player so we could enjoy watching movies. For my bedroom, I bought a desk and a folded chair. A bed would need to wait until I had saved enough for my next tuition. Until then a simple airbed should be more than enough for a comfortable sleep.
[Scrap #9] If you ever need to go from Palm Desert to San Diego, Route 74 (South) will offer you the best views. Drive a few miles south outside of the city and you will notice a sign advising you to turn off the air-conditioning. This is where the climb starts and the road becomes curvy. Slow down! You will pass through a Vista Point to your left with some great views (and bunch of intoxicated teenagers if you happen to be there on a weekend night). The climb will eventually become less steep and road less curvy. The temperature will drop down and the plants around you may trick you into thinking you're in the Mediterraneans. Continue onto Highway 371 and then Highway 79 which eventually merges with Freeway 15. Keep driving south and the road will take you to San Diego. Or, if were driving with me and Akira on a sunny Christmas Eve (and happened to miss the 'Last Exit in the US' sign), all the way to Tijuana, Mexico. If that's the case, walk along the main street and you will soon find yourself at a bar where no one check your ID and happy hour never ends.
[Scrap #10] It was my first time outside of the US and it felt strange. Here I was, an American student ordering drinks and giving large tips to the bartenders. The roles had suddenly reversed for that one night. I gave one of the bartenders my phone number and asked him to visit me. "One day I will" he replied pointing at the lights in a short distance. Over there was America. His dream of getting there was no less stronger than was mine a few months ago. It was probably even more desperate as America was literally within eye sight. Akira and I spent the night at one of the local hotels. On the way back there was a slow and long line of cars waiting to cross the border back into the States. I thought of my parents and that first trip to Berlin. How before getting back to Poland we stopped at a parking lot to eat all of the Salami we had bought so they wouldn't get confiscated by the border patrol. But that was a fun memory. Here, we were surrounded by small kids knocking our windows begging for money. It didn't really feel like Christmas at all.