This was so good. Being “a fork in the wrong place at the table” is such an apt description. Did it only make others uncomfortable or more so you?
I can clearly answer that question for myself. My “stifling awkwardness” in those situations superseded anyone else’s. It was so deafening in my own ears, there was no room to record anyone else’s experience. But at the end of the day, all you have is your own experience, and that becomes your reality.
I’m sorry you went through this after a 25 year career, but it sounds like you truly turned a maddening situation into a creative and beautiful one. That’s a hard road. Good job!
I really liked this, Laurie. I wish more writers would write about the side gigs that sustain them (aside from teaching). It provides a service in so many ways -- to let other writers they are not alone in having to string together multiple functions, but also to provide a writer's gaze into a specific job.
I think the catering world and the world of professional cooking has been a great, specific landscape to write about. There's so much detail. Thanks for your comment and hi back!
Ohmygosh I just love these. You are funny and brilliant and weird in all the best ways.
“something else I can tell you from the vantage point of now is I don’t look for reasons why I did anything. I don’t care why.” I really relate to this. It’s a relief and a freedom to stop asking myself why.
Another delight, Laurie. I loved "Honestly, I don’t know why I made this decision, and something else I can tell you from the vantage point of now is I don’t look for reasons why I did anything. I don’t care why." So perfectly put. When I was out of work in 2013, I had wanted to find a job waiting tables (in LA). I enjoyed that work in college and, like you, I wanted a physical job so I could have my brain for me. Well, without a headshot or "experience" with POS (I have a degree with three letters in it and an iPhone, how hard could it be?) I couldn't find a job -- that was always the one job a woman could get. Finally. I got hired at probably the 27th place I applied (really not exaggerating; I was on a mission) only to find that there weren't 8-hour shifts and your 4-hour one would likely be cut, especially if you were the first in (which I was). There was no way that would sustain me and I took the next day job offered (and it was awful). But I so wanted that chance to do that work and be free of a desk, and have the rest of my time and energy for me/the writing. You rule, Laurie. xo
I love this piece. I'm particularly angry at the voice editor and the firings. The jock straps and conservatism at the foundation of the firing experience make me sick. I want to read a piece totally focused on these jerks.
The Voice was mainly fabulous, and I loved the other editors, who gave me huge amounts of freedom and support. I owe everything expansive and fun about my work to the editors and writers I learned from at the Voice. The Forst/Simmons dyad at the paper isn't worth my further time or attention. I wrote about them here to give some context for the move to catering. I didn't have to become a cater-waiter. It was an eccentric decision but one I loved and continue to love. I just did the bat mitzvah party 2 weeks ago!
I experienced a similar forst/symmons dyad at the Stockton record, my first job as a reporter, and other media places. It's alive and well in the business today.
Boy did this bring up a memory. When hubby was about 26 in 1986 he came very close to landing a role on a soap opera. It was between him and another guy. Hubby didn’t get the part. A few days later he was a cater waiter at the Met for the mucky mucks at CBS. He approached a group of men to offer a canapé from the tray he carried only to find it was the same group of men who were at his final audition. They were very gracious, saying they loved his reading as a guitar playing rapist but the head writer thought the other guy was cuter. Needless to say hubby was mortified but gracious. I am sharing this story with him. Good on you for owning your part in their awkward confusion.
I could relate to this.... I am currently working on a memoir about the time I found myself on my own with a kid and putting myself through college waiting tables at the IHOP. One day some of my former high school classmates came in obviously on lunch break from a professional job and when I went to the table to take their order I wished a sinkhole would open up underneath me or a Cat 5 hurricane would blow me away. It was so painful!
This was great. My roommate on the Upper West Side in the 1980s was a caterer, and later she did it in Fire Island in the summers. It used to make me, and later, her husband, very nervous just to watch her prepare for these jobs. It always seemed like everything was being done last-minute and rushed, including hiring people in place of people who would not show up. I really admired everyone involved. It was too nerve-wracking for me even to watch sometimes, so I could never do anything like that. (Being a teacher is so easy compared to catering.) You have a lot of courage.
Oh, dearheart, I have zero courage. I am an engine of desire, following the "I want this" trail of bread crumbs! But thanks. Don't mean to be a jerk by quibbling.
I saw you as a survivor in this situation. You lost your job but rather than retreat to your room, you jumped into a situation where every event you were involved in was an opportunity to ‘seen’. Very daring and adventurous, and so very public! Maybe in one sense you were feeling humbled, but in another sense you were thumbing your nose at those who would judge you.
I enjoy your work very much, always very thought provoking. I’m laughing at myself right now, you said you never dwell on why you do things, guess you are leaving it to your readers to figure it out for you!
Thanks, dear Joyce. To me, analysis and summary are the enemies of story. So is memory. The writer needs to stay in the unknowing place as long as possible. That's where the surprises crop up.
I love this side comment in the middle of the piece: "I think there’s nothing you can't talk about if you understand the story." It describes why I write, too--write to better understand the story, so that we can better talk about unspeakable, so that we can even better understand the story through the process...it's all very circular in my experience.
Sari Botton said the same thing. Maybe because it's unusually infused with love for an activity and includes a moment of insight that actually occurred while writing this: the self-importance of thinking it's a big deal to be unimportant?
That was a lovely moment and it really resonated. What also struck me was the love of working with people and doing that at the Voice and as a caterer--I'm 53 and came to understand this incredibly important thing in the last 5 years. The flipping of your perspective on a painful, vulnerable moment was wonderful too. Thank you for writing it and sending it!
Yes, all this makes sense. The "vulnerability" can't be in the narrator when she's looking back at the situation, or the writing will be dead and the reader will go somewhere else. The trick is to arouse the sense of vulnerability in the reader. (Not that you asked.)
This is so beautifully written. Been in similar situations myself and forwarded this on to a few others. Then I look at the byline and see it's you, Laurie! Of course. Well done.
This was so good. Being “a fork in the wrong place at the table” is such an apt description. Did it only make others uncomfortable or more so you?
I can clearly answer that question for myself. My “stifling awkwardness” in those situations superseded anyone else’s. It was so deafening in my own ears, there was no room to record anyone else’s experience. But at the end of the day, all you have is your own experience, and that becomes your reality.
I’m sorry you went through this after a 25 year career, but it sounds like you truly turned a maddening situation into a creative and beautiful one. That’s a hard road. Good job!
I love the catering world. I didn’t actually lose status in the writing world. The sense of dislocation is inside me, pretty much anywhere I go.
I really liked this, Laurie. I wish more writers would write about the side gigs that sustain them (aside from teaching). It provides a service in so many ways -- to let other writers they are not alone in having to string together multiple functions, but also to provide a writer's gaze into a specific job.
Also, hello from a former student!
I think the catering world and the world of professional cooking has been a great, specific landscape to write about. There's so much detail. Thanks for your comment and hi back!
Ohmygosh I just love these. You are funny and brilliant and weird in all the best ways.
“something else I can tell you from the vantage point of now is I don’t look for reasons why I did anything. I don’t care why.” I really relate to this. It’s a relief and a freedom to stop asking myself why.
Wonderful comment! xxL
Another delight, Laurie. I loved "Honestly, I don’t know why I made this decision, and something else I can tell you from the vantage point of now is I don’t look for reasons why I did anything. I don’t care why." So perfectly put. When I was out of work in 2013, I had wanted to find a job waiting tables (in LA). I enjoyed that work in college and, like you, I wanted a physical job so I could have my brain for me. Well, without a headshot or "experience" with POS (I have a degree with three letters in it and an iPhone, how hard could it be?) I couldn't find a job -- that was always the one job a woman could get. Finally. I got hired at probably the 27th place I applied (really not exaggerating; I was on a mission) only to find that there weren't 8-hour shifts and your 4-hour one would likely be cut, especially if you were the first in (which I was). There was no way that would sustain me and I took the next day job offered (and it was awful). But I so wanted that chance to do that work and be free of a desk, and have the rest of my time and energy for me/the writing. You rule, Laurie. xo
You rule as well, Sandra. xxL
Perfection: “step into another person’s sense of pleasure you will never understand.” Now that, Laurie Stone, is an ending.
Ah, I love when people notice my tricks. xxL
I love this piece. I'm particularly angry at the voice editor and the firings. The jock straps and conservatism at the foundation of the firing experience make me sick. I want to read a piece totally focused on these jerks.
The Voice was mainly fabulous, and I loved the other editors, who gave me huge amounts of freedom and support. I owe everything expansive and fun about my work to the editors and writers I learned from at the Voice. The Forst/Simmons dyad at the paper isn't worth my further time or attention. I wrote about them here to give some context for the move to catering. I didn't have to become a cater-waiter. It was an eccentric decision but one I loved and continue to love. I just did the bat mitzvah party 2 weeks ago!
I experienced a similar forst/symmons dyad at the Stockton record, my first job as a reporter, and other media places. It's alive and well in the business today.
Boy did this bring up a memory. When hubby was about 26 in 1986 he came very close to landing a role on a soap opera. It was between him and another guy. Hubby didn’t get the part. A few days later he was a cater waiter at the Met for the mucky mucks at CBS. He approached a group of men to offer a canapé from the tray he carried only to find it was the same group of men who were at his final audition. They were very gracious, saying they loved his reading as a guitar playing rapist but the head writer thought the other guy was cuter. Needless to say hubby was mortified but gracious. I am sharing this story with him. Good on you for owning your part in their awkward confusion.
I love this story and I love your take on my story. You see, that's why writers need readers! xxL
I could relate to this.... I am currently working on a memoir about the time I found myself on my own with a kid and putting myself through college waiting tables at the IHOP. One day some of my former high school classmates came in obviously on lunch break from a professional job and when I went to the table to take their order I wished a sinkhole would open up underneath me or a Cat 5 hurricane would blow me away. It was so painful!
Yup. I understand. Very confusing being swept up into the who am I and what am I doing?
This was great. My roommate on the Upper West Side in the 1980s was a caterer, and later she did it in Fire Island in the summers. It used to make me, and later, her husband, very nervous just to watch her prepare for these jobs. It always seemed like everything was being done last-minute and rushed, including hiring people in place of people who would not show up. I really admired everyone involved. It was too nerve-wracking for me even to watch sometimes, so I could never do anything like that. (Being a teacher is so easy compared to catering.) You have a lot of courage.
Oh, dearheart, I have zero courage. I am an engine of desire, following the "I want this" trail of bread crumbs! But thanks. Don't mean to be a jerk by quibbling.
I saw you as a survivor in this situation. You lost your job but rather than retreat to your room, you jumped into a situation where every event you were involved in was an opportunity to ‘seen’. Very daring and adventurous, and so very public! Maybe in one sense you were feeling humbled, but in another sense you were thumbing your nose at those who would judge you.
I enjoy your work very much, always very thought provoking. I’m laughing at myself right now, you said you never dwell on why you do things, guess you are leaving it to your readers to figure it out for you!
Thanks, dear Joyce. To me, analysis and summary are the enemies of story. So is memory. The writer needs to stay in the unknowing place as long as possible. That's where the surprises crop up.
This is so fire 🔥
Emily! I just realized we have a food connection. Duh. Would you care for a cheese puff?
I would, actually.
I love this side comment in the middle of the piece: "I think there’s nothing you can't talk about if you understand the story." It describes why I write, too--write to better understand the story, so that we can better talk about unspeakable, so that we can even better understand the story through the process...it's all very circular in my experience.
Thanks for a wonderful piece full of gems!
Thanks for your thoughtful comment.
Yeah, but I got a lot of good stories out of it. Oh and Party Down is hilarious!
This was great! My favorite of your posts.
Sari Botton said the same thing. Maybe because it's unusually infused with love for an activity and includes a moment of insight that actually occurred while writing this: the self-importance of thinking it's a big deal to be unimportant?
That was a lovely moment and it really resonated. What also struck me was the love of working with people and doing that at the Voice and as a caterer--I'm 53 and came to understand this incredibly important thing in the last 5 years. The flipping of your perspective on a painful, vulnerable moment was wonderful too. Thank you for writing it and sending it!
Yes, all this makes sense. The "vulnerability" can't be in the narrator when she's looking back at the situation, or the writing will be dead and the reader will go somewhere else. The trick is to arouse the sense of vulnerability in the reader. (Not that you asked.)
This is so beautifully written. Been in similar situations myself and forwarded this on to a few others. Then I look at the byline and see it's you, Laurie! Of course. Well done.
Oh, so happy you spread this to your friends. We are all in multiple worlds. xxL
Love your honesty
Or the narrator’s honesty. There is always a narrator who is not the same person as me.