I'm sitting here in the dark in a hotel room in Sturbridge, Massachusetts right now. I'm not tired so I figured that this would be a good time to do some writing...
Since today is technically Thursday, I'll be leaving for my trip in 4 days. I am beyond anxious at this point, especially since now I am UNEMPLOYED! Monday was my last day at the Beverly Yacht Club, and while I have yet to hand in my collection of keys, I am so done there. It was kind of bittersweet leaving. I mean, I made the choice to leave. With so many people jobless in this country, it may seem completely out of line for someone to just give up a well-paying (but it could have always been better....) job just because he/she is going through a quarterlife crisis. And yes that is what I've given this adventure the name of. I guess it's hard to explain unless you are in my shoes, in my situation and more importantly, in my head.
I've been at the BYC for seven years, on and off because of college and moving to Key West, but never coming off of payroll. I started there the summer of 2003 in an era which I find hard to believe actually existed - times before Joe. And looking back and really thinking about it, I hated it there. I was going through a rough time in my life - right before my junior year of college. I took the position of waitstaff at the club, mainly because I needed work hours in the Hospitality field before I could graduate college and my dad hooked me up because he had connections through working at Bardens. Also to add fuel to my fire, I had a friend living with me for the summer who basically ate away at any ounce of self-esteem I might have had at the time which clearly I didn't realize until much later that year. I would come home from work and just be absolutely miserable. I wanted to quit but since it was just a summer job, there was no point. Suck it up. Not to badmouth people or anything, but the previous club manager had no fucking idea what was going on there. Maybe he did before I got there, but during his last year, things never made sense. We had a horrible staff - minus a few, of course. The chef was mean. He actually threw cole slaw at a girl one day. And this was my first time ever working in a restaurant environment. Definitely made me question my college major....I played it cool, came in, did my job, punched in, punched out. I took what experience I thought I was gaining and went with it. Also, up until some point in July I was working a second job at Marian Heath Greeting Cards, a place I loved so much and had been with for 5 years. I was laid off. It was earth shattering, at the time. I caused a scene. Good times.
I somehow made it through the summer of 2003 and went back to college where I had a horrible first semester because of this aforementioned friend. And then I learned that the previous club manager got the axe. Second semester of junior year, I started to turn things around and while I made a few different life changes I somehow thought that another summer at the BYC would be a wise choice, especially with a new club manager and chef. The commodore at the time was Linda Goodwin and she actually took time to talk to me at her house where we outlined my goals, her goals and just talked about my situation in general. It was good. I felt like things could really turn around and I could be happy there. And of course once I met Joe, I knew that I definitely could be happy there. Talk about complete opposites. Here was a man with a plan. A man who actually liked things being on a schedule or a time-line, could have fun but also get down to business, listened to employee concerns and made a promise to work hand-in-hand with me so that I could truely benefit from working in the private club field. This was also the year that I became president of the Club Managers Associations of America UMASS Chapter. I thought that I finally found my niche in the world. This was what I wanted to do with my life.
I know this all sounds soooooo dramatic and cheesy but it's true. I loved my job. And especially once I got behind the bar, there was no stopping me. Loving my job turned into a good thing, and a bad thing, as well. I graduated college, spent another summer at the BYC and then decided to spend a winter in Key West. I w as living the dream down there and making the phone call to tell Joe that I was moving down there permanently came very easy to me. But when I quickly uprooted myself from that scene basically overnight and had no place to go but home, I knew that I could count on the yacht club being there and taking me back in. Of course now this was when things got tricky. Summers were great, especially being on salary and getting a steady paycheck. But the off-season was not so good. Picking up crappy waitressing job here and there made me beyond unhappy. And I managed to do this for three years. I don't know how. Last winter was the straw that broke the camel's back. I can't do this anymore. I can't put myself through 7 months of hell, just to have 5 months of happiness. Especially when I could barely pay my bills and I still lived at home. And it was affecting me mentally too. I had to make the change this year or I would never survive.
So, this summer, after much consideration, I gave my notice to the yacht club. And it was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. We had our ups and downs, but when you're thinking about leaving a place, it's hard to focus on the downs. I thought about what I was going to miss and it made things just that much harder. But I did it. With no back-up plan. I've always wanted to do a cross country road trip and now I finally have my chance.
The Beverly Yacht Club was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. The friendships I have formed - whether it be with the staff or the members - have just been irreplaceable.The experience I have gained by working my way up from waitstaff with no experience to the Dining Services Manager has been so helpful. I've definitely learned a lot about myself from working here, as well - some good, some not so good. The mental pictures I have in my head of that place just make me smile. Whether it's scrambling to do a buffet for 300+ sailors in a torrential downpour, to running out of hot dogs on the last day of lunch, to finding dead mice in the basement, to struggling with that piece of crap cooler behind the bar, to laughing at drunk members or to just sitting at the staff table shooting the shit laughing our asses off. It's those things I'll never forget. I really and truely, with all my heart, will miss the BYC. It's extremely hard to leave, but I know that I'm making the right choice.
I know it hasn't really hit me yet that I don't work there anymore, especially since my last night was kind of anti-climatic. I'm sure it will when I go in for Pub Night on Friday to get my check and hand in my keys. That will also be the day I say my final farewells to Joe. It'll be hard not to sit there and nitpick the waitstaff and bartender, but to put it simply, it's not my job anymore. My only fear is that all the hard work I put into that place over the past few years will be left in the dust. I know that the staff I'm leaving are fully capable of doing things the right way, but it's hard not to worry. And I really hope the members don't give the staff shit. Because they are hardworking, and great kids and deserve recognization just as much as anybody.
And wow, I just realized how long this entry is. I hope a few people made it down to the end, maybe got a better feel about why I'm doing this. Another chapter of my life is finished. Let's see where my next adventure takes me! FOUR DAYS!!!!
