wooÐs

Probably waiting tables. At 19, it wasn't that bad at all. It was almost fun really. But at 30 and pushing 280lbs att, it was a whole different ballgame. I was essentially carrying another person with me the entire time, so physically it was way tough. On the nights I was scheduled to run food, I would sweat so badly that it looked like someone threw a glass of water down my back. I had to have made some customers lose a bit of their appetite. At the end of the night, I'd limp to my car with feet throbbing. As soon as I'd sit down in the car, I'd take my shoes off and just cry from the pain. And the next evening, I'd get dressed and slide into those fucking shoes all over again for another night of physical torture. Also at the end of the night, after I'd quit sweating, I'd brush off salt from my face after cooling down from sweating so much.

The money was great though, not to mention the instant cash-in-hand. And after all was said and done, I'm pretty sure I appreciated the challenge. But I can't ever allow myself to get near that big again. And I'd like to say I'll never wait tables again, but times could very well get tough at some point and I'll have to pick up a second job like that to make ends meet.