Waiting on Someone (s)

I love my new job. I know you should never judge anything by the first day, be it good or bad, but my first day as an actual waitress was really fun. They started me out on the booths, the small two-person tables in the restaurant. I got tripped up a couple times here and there, but, as my boss says, those are growing pains, and we soon grow out of them, or soon they're not longer as painful.
I love the people I work with. I forgot, being at Stanford, an environment where everyone is pretty much at the same station of life you are, or at least in a similar mindset, or of a similar ethos. At Nola, everyone is different. Some people have wokred there for five years, some for two weeks. There are two guys I went to high school with who work in the kitchen. I never talked to them in high school. Literally not once. One of them used to do dip in sixth grade and spit it into his sweatshirt sleeve. Now, when I see them at work, I'm so happy. Like I could make up for "lost time" by talking to them over the bar where they set the food when it's ready.
I love being on my feet all day. Not really, cause my feet hurt like a riot right now, but there's something to be said for working REAL HARD for the money you make. It was my frist day and I made $130 in tips, but about $90 when I tip everyone else (the buser, hostess, bartender, kitchen). Not bad!
One of my coworkers told me I looked Caribbean today. No one can ever pin point what my nationality is. It was kinda awesome.
It poured today. I love the way pavement smells after new rain. Like wet dust.