I leave you — and myself — alone with photographs taken from random places; sometimes carrying stories, and sometimes taken simply to exist here.
This restaurant was actually one of the places I worked the longest in my life — two and a half years, which sounds simple to say but was difficult for me to live through. There were many reasons behind that difficulty. But honestly, in some ways, it was a good place to prepare for life. Maybe it was where I learned how to struggle, work hard, take responsibility, and help support a home. Maybe it was the key to distancing myself from bad habits.
But it also showed me something else — that there were places in my life where I couldn’t say no, even when I should have. It taught me about setting boundaries, expressing my expectations, and understanding people better. I saw what people I once dismissed as annoying or unreasonable were capable of, and I learned more than I expected to.
I leave these photographs here as memories of all of it.
I really hate this place. It carries some of my most beautiful and unique memories, but the boss and some of the co-workers… they’re something else. Still, this version of it — empty and quiet — feels strangely peaceful. After quitting my job here, I felt relieved, and in a way, graduated from a chapter of my life.
The land of table names and self-seeker servers — dang. God, this place feels like trauma to me. I’m smiling as I write this now, but I wasn’t smiling when I was working here. Somehow, though, I learned how to wear a poker face — probably the number one survival skill of being a server.
Alright, despite everything, I built some beautiful friendships and connections here. I met wonderful customers, and some of the co-workers became genuine friends of mine. One of them, though, became a unique part of my life — and for that, I’m truly grateful.