Amber

One of my first jobs was as a hostess at the Cliff House in San Francisco. I was eighteen. It was this job that taught me such valuable lessons as "Don't come to an interview with your hair wet." More importantly, I learned how to deal with people. Waitressing came later and taught me other ways of dealing with people--all service jobs probably teach you a lot about this. Hostessing though--you are in the direct line of fire with almost no power. Potential diners are pissed at you because they want a window seat or a booth like ten minutes ago. Servers get pissed because you over sat them or under sat them and they're in the weeds or aren't making as much money as they could be.

And then there is the couple that strolls in ten minutes before closing. They are relaxed and in love, happy to have found a restaurant that's still open. As they walk down the long hallway looking at you with smiling faces you are looking back, balancing the various forces to be reckoned with. The owners would be pissed if they knew you were telling people the kitchen was closed ten minutes before it actually was. So would the managers, for the most part. The would-be diners will be bummed and/or pissed, depending on their personalities, if you tell them they just missed your last seating. But the kitchen and the closing waiter will be real pissed if you seat someone at 9:50 pm. Real pissed.

I was a very good at this job. The fast pace, the problem-solving, the keeping calm as people are yelling at you, the handling of multiple personalities. I loved it, for the most part. Though it did make my feet hurt. We worked in pairs at the front desk during busy shifts and it was at the hostess podium that I met Amber.

We liked each other almost right away. If you're a woman or know women you may be surprised to hear this. It doesn't happen often.Usually there is a testing period or a level of skepticism or judgement that precedes any bond that might eventually arise. We were both young and pretty, dressed up and put on display to greet people. It could have been a competition from the start. But she was a great hostess and so was I--and that made us friends.

Working hard with someone feels good. We were quick and in sync, passing each other on the way back from seating. Never leading a couple to a two-top only to discover that it had already been sat and having to veer at the last minute to a worse table and try to play it off like it was the plan all along. Being able to rely on someone to make your shift easier is no small thing. Not having to explain things or try hard to communicate is so much sweeter than the alternatives. Being young and not having had many jobs I didn't even recognize just how special our collaboration was. I just knew I liked her. Our friendship even survived the realization that we were both after, or being pursued by, the same guy. Ah, restaurant love affairs in your 20s. Good times.

Amber and I have known each other for fourteen years. I was with her when she got her tattoo. I was in her wedding. I was standing in front of her a week after her son was born as she looked up at me with a look of terror and awe on her face and said "They let anybody do this!" That was one of my first signs of how hard it was to be a parent because I didn't know anyone more prepared to have a kid than Amber--early childhood education, nanny, lover of children.

Our lives have greatly changed since we first met at age 24. She has four kids, I have four kids. We live in different towns, almost two hours away from one another. We don't see each other often. We manage to call each other up just in the nick of time when we really need someone to listen and understand and cheer lead.

It's her birthday today. Thirty-nine years old. Years ago we'd be celebrating at a table for fourteen eating hundreds of dollars worth of sushi and drinking lots and lots of booze. Today? I'm not sure what she'll be doing but I'm sure it won't be that.

I love her and appreciate her so very much. She has made my life better in many ways. We are friends for life.

Happy birthday Am.