In between

On Friday night I called up a friend and she told me she was going to Antwerp for a night on the town. I said that was a nice idea. She asked if I wanted to come. I told her I thought that was a nice idea as well. An hour later I there were five of us and a bottle of vodka speeding along the railroad tracks.

We went bar hopping, clubbing, and ever so slightly crazy. We danced the night away took /got our pictures/ taken (again and again and again. They are their own paparazzi) and ended up getting very friendly with some of the locals. Had racist slurs thrown at us (That really amazed me. Apparently Asian people constantly get abused in both the Netherlands and Belgium) and got ourselves quite properly lost.

In other words, we had ourselves a great time until about seven in the morning, when we crashed out on our first train back to Amsterdam. I would, of course, suffer for it later. These things always come back to bite you in the ass. It bit me about seven hours later, for then I had to start being nice to people and making coffee for the very last time. Of course, after a full night of behaving badly the four hours of sleep I did manage to get only really served to sleep of the alcohol; the real sleeping still had to be done.

I fought my way through it. Quite well, I might say. Customers were happy, satisfied and tipped well. I still managed to not make any mistakes. I think that really, only in my head, it was the work day from hell. That is, if hell has great coffee and apple pie.

Afterwards a whole bunch of people that I had worked with came into the café and tried to build a small party. They gave me gifts and farewell speeches. It was quite moving. Of course, I was still completely drained of good will and energy. We sat around and chatted for a while, but truth be told it didn’t get anywhere near lively. I guess everybody had had more than enough of these kinds of nights in recent memory.

I was touched by their efforts, though. The gifts were a little silly and kooky, but it was definitely the thought that counted. I had only worked there for a little more than six months, which many people before me had done as well. Not many of them got gifts, or a real farewell party for that matter. It made me feel like I had made a difference in their lives.

I will miss the place. It was always a good escape from my studies. There I could do something with my hands; something that was quick, exact and had a clear and obvious goal – the well-being of my guests. My new job will be nothing like that. It will require me working towards goals far into the future, with delayed gratification and no real opportunity to do something else (I will probably have trouble figuring out where my job ends and my degree starts!).

On the other hand, I will like the fact with my new job that I can actually make a difference. My work will stay out there for people to see. What I do will not be largely forgotten the next day. I’m moving away from feelings to facts. That is the problem with F&B, your never sure if you are actually making a difference; if you are actually making the world a better place. With Academia it is a little easier to fool yourself into believing that. We’ve all got to have a purpose.