As a kid, summertime wasn’t only about days on the water or campfires and sticky s’mores but also the summer job. As soon as I could legally work, I did. My first job was working at a t-shirt store that catered to tourists. I grew up in a small northern Michigan town that is similar to the Flathead — it boomed during the summer months when scores of visitors descended upon the Great Lakes and beaches. As a teen, I folded and refolded stacks and stacks of shirts and sweatshirts proclaiming the wonders of Up North country. At the end of a busy day, t-shirts would be crumpled in piles, and it would take a long time sort and reshelf all the clothes.
I loved my summer jobs because I earned a paycheck. I could pay for gas and insurance for my car, buy shoes for the upcoming basketball season, and spend the rest at Dairy Queen. When I hit the right age to start working in restaurants, I left behind my retail gig. Not only could I make tips, I could work at night. Growing up, I had an early curfew, but if I waited tables at night, I could stay out later than normal even if that only meant I was busy running orders and wiping down tables before stumbling home on tired feet, emptying my dirty apron into the laundry bin, and stashing my cash tips before bed in a box.
One summer I worked for a gourmet deli and the major perk was free lunch. I could make whatever type of sandwich I wanted, and have a freshly baked cookie too. The owners, Chip and Claudia, quickly had to revise the rules because my best friend Natalie, who also worked there, was as much of chow hound as I was. Our sandwich creations cost more than our daily paycheck — we piled on at least three different lunch meats and stuffed the bread with expensive cheeses. If it was a really busy day, and we made thousands of sub sandwiches sometimes, Chip and Claudia would allow us two cookies instead of just one when it came to our lunch break.
The service industry, especially food and beverage, is not an easy profession. It’s demanding, fast paced, and there are many times you don’t get a tip for whatever reason. But it’s also so much fun — I’ve always loved the busyness of the job and meeting so many different people. A shift promised excitement, even with irritable customers. These days my summer job is raising kiddos, and I often feel like I’m back in the restaurant, rushing out orders and my feet are certainly tired by the end of the day. For some reason, though, my kids aren’t that great of tippers, but they do shower me in kisses and hugs.
Maggie Doherty is the owner of Kalispell Brewing Company on Main Street.