5 tactics to dating a waiter

The world is saturated with dating advice.

All it takes is a quick Google search and one is inundated with Cosmo articles and blog posts about “When to say the big L word” and “How to know if he’s the one”. Which is all well and good, but it’s all stuff we've read over and over again, and it’s really no big news anymore. What we need is real world advice on how to cope with unusual relationship circumstances.

I wasn't able to find any good, relevant information on dating a waiter. I've seen my fair share of advice on how to pick up a waiter or waitress, how to schmooze them, get their number, etc.; but nothing on actually sustaining a relationship with them.

I've been dating my waiter for a few months now, and while the relationship is still fairly new, I've been able to come up with some nuggets of advice for anyone looking to keep the relationship alive.

Get used to their schedule.

Those in the service industry work offbeat hours. They may work early morning, late at night, graveyard, or a combination. Fridays and Saturdays are typically the busiest nights of the week, and therefore the most profitable, so your waiter is usually going to be working and not available for Date Night. The fact of the matter is, if you have a regular 9-5er, you two are likely not going to have matching schedules. It’s been my biggest complaint and my biggest challenge so far. I sometimes go an entire week without seeing him, and that SUCKS. However, we make it work by really putting forth an effort to make time for each other. I’ll go over to his house after he’s off work at 11, knowing full well I need to be up at 6 to go to work and that I’m going to be dead tired the next day. He lugs his overnight bag on the train for his full hour commute to work on weekends, just so he can come see me after. Conflicting schedules require communication, inconvenience at times, and a little bit of sacrifice on sleep.

Don’t visit them at work.

Oh, it’s tempting. Trust me, I know. You haven’t seen them in a week, why not grab a friend and head down to the restaurant so you can see your sweetie in action? Here’s why: your person is absolutely at their worst when they are working. They are stressed out, in a hurry, distracted, and irritable. The last thing they need is the added pressure of knowing you are seeing them this way. Imagine them sitting and watching while you get lectured by your boss or screamed at by a customer. Even if you don’t sit in their section, they might feel like you expect them to talk to you even though they don’t even have a second to shove some food in their mouths.

Get your own hobbies.

This is a bit of a piggyback on the first rule. A lot of your life as the significant other to a server is lived waiting. Waiting for them to wake up (If they work nights), waiting for them to get off work (most of the time they can’t use their phones during their shifts), just waiting a LOT. Find a hobby or an activity you can do in the meantime to distract you. Especially at first, when the relationship is still new and you don’t live together. People in new relationships tend to get so absorbed into each other that they forget that they are their own individual person. Keep a hold of your identity, and find stuff to do while you are waiting for them. I've caught myself just holing up in my room while he works, not doing anything productive, and just waiting. I've had to pull myself out of it from time to time and call up a friend or go shopping… something… anything. This will help you retain your independence, and in turn will make your relationship stronger because you are not relying on the other person to make you happy.

Don’t take it personally.

Everybody has bad days at work, and waiters are no exception. The only difference is bad days in a restaurant are a special level of hell. Your person will most likely come home in a piss poor mood every single night, and it has nothing to do with you. Don’t get offended or upset about it. Instead, let them smoke, hand them a beer, and feed them. The person you fell in love with will return eventually. Most waiters deal with these bad days in two ways: they either come home and whine and bitch and scream about it, in which case you just follow the above advice. Or they refuse to talk about it and suffer in silence until said beer, cigarette, and food have been utilized. In that case, don’t force them to talk about their day and relive it all over again, and don’t get offended that they don’t want to share. Again, it’s not about you. They just don’t want to ever think about what happened ever again. These bad moods are fleeting, and they’ll be grateful to you for being so understanding. Bonus points for you.

Accept that you just don’t know.

You love your waiter, and therefore you want to be involved and supportive in their life. That is great, and for the most part you’ll be able to provide that. However, unless you have been or are currently a waiter, you are never going to fully understand that part of their life. Don’t take offense. My guy has no idea what it’s like to be an office admin. Waiters have a culture all their own, and it’s one that you just won’t “get”. That’s OK, though. You have plenty of other more important and interesting things to talk about anyway.

How leaving my husband made me love myself again

I've got quite a butt.

And my hips are, shall we say, very conducive to child bearing. 

I play roller derby, so my thighs are nice and thick. I'd like to think they're all muscle, but I'd be kidding myself.

I've also been pregnant once, so I've got a bit of a pooch, and my boobs are huge (30F) and no longer glorious. 

But hey, I'm actually ok with all of that. In fact, I let the entire city of Portland see my naked body during the World Naked Bike Ride last Saturday, and I was damn proud of how I looked. I wasn't ashamed, self-conscious (well, maybe a tiny bit at first), or embarrassed. For the first time in my life, I was proud of my less than perfect body and I was ready to show it.

How did I get there? How did I, someone who has always either been on some kind of diet or wracked with guilt and shame for not sticking to one, finally feel good about myself and proud of myself enough to stop hiding my body?

It's been a very long time coming, and all it took was one afternoon watching a model get body painted to turn my whole view around.

I spent the last 7 years of my life being in a relationship that was not good for my self-esteem. I tend to be air-headed, flighty, forgetful, and a bit messy and disorganized. I can't cook for shit, unless I have a recipe in front of me, and even then the food is palatable at best. Unfortunately, I was married to a man who had very old-fashioned ideals about what marriage should be like, and I tried my hardest to fit into that mold he set for me. To him, I was continually failing to live up to the standards he set for me. I was expected to keep the house clean, meals cooked, and have sex with him whenever he wanted it. I did not belong to myself, I belonged to him. In his defense, he was never abusive. He didn't physically hurt me or call me blatantly horrible names, and for the most part he was loving and treated me well enough, but he was still controlling and manipulative. Years of constantly falling short of someone I loved started to chip away at what little self-esteem I started with. I hated looking in the mirror; I hated taking showers and having to wash my disgusting body. Attempting to dress up and feel better usually ended up in me dissolving into tears and changing back into my pajamas. I was a mess. This spring, I left that relationship, and shortly after, entered into a new one.

I assisted my new fella, the creator and editor of a Portland-based magazine, in securing an interview with a body painter I had met during one of my derby league's fundraisers.  Being the self-conscious person I was, the thought of volunteering myself for this project was brief and fleeting. I figured there was no way my body could look good being painted like that, as it requires the model to be naked. (i.e. no Spanx to hold everything together!) However, over the 6 hours it took to paint her from start to finish, I started thinking very heavily about what I was seeing and feeling, and my epiphany started taking shape. The model being painted was gorgeous; she had an amazing, athletic body and talked with pride about how much weight she could squat in one set. She was tight and toned all over, and clearly had the perfect body for being painted up. To my surprise, as the afternoon progressed, it became clear that she still had her own hang ups about what she looked like. I got to thinking, how could this beautiful woman have the body most people would envy, and yet still not feel "perfect"? We are all so critical of ourselves, and we manage to find flaws where there are none. Why is that? What are we afraid of? Why are we hiding? I decided that day that I would not hide anymore. I broke up with the diet I was on. I stopped obsessing about my weight. I decided for myself that I am good enough for me, and I was done trying to impress people I would never meet. I was done killing myself to make others feel more comfortable with my appearance. I emailed Matt and said I would love to be a body painting model, and in return he said he would love to paint me. He said everyone has a perfect body for painting, because in the end, it's all art and bodies are beautiful.

My fella truly and honestly sees me as beautiful, not only physically, but he sees my potential, my drive, and my personality as amazing and inspiring. He encouraged me to participate in the Naked Bike Ride, and is thrilled that I want to be a body painting model. He's watched me grow from someone who would cover parts of herself with her arms to hide her flab, to someone who proudly struts around the streets of Portland naked, with nothing to hide. That confidence and pride is incredibly sexy. Breaking free of the relationship that broke me started me on this path to self-discovery. Don't get me wrong, I still have hang-ups from time to time, but I can laugh at how ridiculous they are now. I take care of my body. I eat what I want, in moderation. I stay active by playing roller derby, belly dancing, riding my bike, and going on walks with my kiddo instead of busting my ass at the gym. I am worth more than my looks or my housewife abilities. This life is a wonderful life, and I am done wasting it worrying about my body fat percentage and counting calories.