Close to half of the 9.4 million Americans working in restaurants today are under the age of 24 -- and their ranks are growing. This new servant class comes from all races, ethnicities and walks of life. While many view restaurant work as a stepping stone, others view it simply as a convenient way to support a cosmopolitan lifestyle. PNS commentator Bill Taylor writes about those members of his generation who are "waiting on dreams." Taylor writes for YO! (Youth Outlook), a newspaper by and about young people published by Pacific News Service.
SAN FRANCISCO -- I spent the other evening with my friend Jolie Whitmoyer, watching her work. Just six months ago she was stressing about completing her senior thesis at Princeton, worrying about what font looked best. Now her life is quite different.
This night she was working alone, responsible for every table in the restaurant where she works, in the financial district of San Francisco. I watched in amazement. After only a month, Jolie had mastered her new domain. As she simultaneously wiped up spilled red wine, gave out change and recited the day's specials, she turned to me and winked: "I'm the best damned waitress in this town!"
After the place had cleared out we sat down and talked. Exhausted, she shook her head and smiled: "If you had told me four months ago I'd be doing this, I would have been insulted."
Today 47% of the 9.4 million Americans working in the restaurant business are under 24 years of age. Walk into any cafe or bistro and take a look at who's waiting on you -- the young Latino immigrant who makes the best Reuben sandwiches in the city, the college drop-out who is getting ready to pursue an acting career, or the recent Princeton graduate who tends bar.
Young Americans are the new working class of America, doing the type of work that most of professional America views as meaningless. Every time Jolie calls home, her father (a lawyer) asks her when she will be getting a "real job." Her co-worker, Matthew Sherwood, also a college graduate, had a spoon thrown at him by a customer fresh off the trading floor who was angry about the potency of his martini.
What makes this new working class so unique is that you can't categorize them in the usual terms-- race, ethnicity, financial background. Unlike the 1940s working class -- the young, small town assembly-line worker saw a job as a lifetime position -- many of today's young workers view their restaurant job as a way to mark time until a more favorable offer comes their way. Others see it as a way to support a cosmopolitan lifestyle which matters more than long-term security or "getting ahead."
Across the street from the Princeton graduate who waits tables after four years of the Ivy life, an ex-gang member is doing the same job. As Miguel serves his customers sandwiches, he secretly holds on to the hope that one day one of them will offer him a "better" job. Like Jolie, Miguel is not satisfied with this line of work.
Many of these new service workers fear getting stuck, or worse, becoming so addicted to or exhausted by the job that they lose the incentive to look beyond. Aron Murphy, who waited tables for five years, painfully recalls his need to get out. "I remember those times when you would hold out your hand for the money, and they would intentionally place it on the table instead. I hated that condescension."
Aron, at 28, finally made it out. He now studies theater at UC Santa Barbara, and credits his experience waiting tables with helping him find his way there. After leaving college at the end of his sophomore year, he felt confused and totally lacking in self-confidence. Through his waiting job he found that "honesty accented with a little humor provokes some classic interactions with other people."
Aron remembers one moment when two policemen came into the restaurant, looking very serious. Searching for a rise, he purposefully acted as obnoxious as possible. "You remind me of my wife," one cop remarked. He responded with a smart-ass wisecrack and somehow pulled it off. The cops erupted in laughter. "That was the fun of it," Aron remembers. "These rigid expectations put on waiters can be turned inside out, as long as you keep it on a friendly level."
Not every young waiter sees restaurant work as a stepping stone. Many with professional credentials simply want to distance themselves from the pitfalls of their parents' careers-- mid-life crises, weekly trips to the psychiatrist, the high divorce rate.
For these work-wary young people, what they do for work is less important in defining who they are than how they live -- their lifestyles. "People ask me what I do for a living as if they're asking me who I am," says Tad Hershey, 26. "I tell them I ski, I fish, I mountain climb. I only support myself as a waiter to create the life I want to lead."
The majority, however, wait tables while they wait on dreams.

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