What do you do?

Here we go.

INT. RESTAURANT. LIVERPOOL. EVENING.

KATE (27) leans on the brass bar. She raises her leg and holds her ankle, gently rotating it. She places her foot back on the floor but remains on her toes. She dusts her hand on her apron. There is a cold, wet gravy stain.

KATE

(dry heave)

(deep sigh)

Oh, that is just great

Kate grabs a napkin and wipes the apron and hand. EMILY (20) walks towards Kate, her feet turned out pounding the tiled floored with some authority.

KATE

(continued)

(muttered)

and it's on my shirt.

EMILY

That's one good thing about the waistcoat,

it doesn't stain the white.

She pulls at the grey, faux tweed article of tired clothing and then nudges Kate's elbow.

EMILY

(continued)

You need to stop leaning?

KATE

(dull, sarcastic)

Yes, head waitress.

EMILY

We need you to come in earlier tomorrow.

KATE

I can't, I'm freelancing.

EMILY

Oh right, yes. I forgot.

Emily adjusts her position, she tilts her head. Her voice adjusts in pitch. Raised higher than normal.

EMILY

(continued)

Right, and what is it that you do again?

KATE

I'm a picture researcher.

(Tired)

I work in...

EMILY

(Sharp)

Never heard of it. Well what time

can you get in for?

A scene that has played out far too many times in my life, just with a cast of different characters. I am not a screenwriter, how I would love to be in a career where people are not only immediately interested, despite knowing absolutely nothing about the field, but also one that is immediately respected. As a waitress and picture researcher I find myself in a position where I am respected for neither.

In the UK, many wrongly assume that in order for an individual to be a waitress/waiter/server, however one would like to describe themselves, you need to be a student or foreign. I do not fit in either category. At 27, I work as a waitress because it is a good job and again to digress, not because Covid-19 has hit me hard and I have needed to place myself in a role I hate but I needed to earn money. I chose this, willingly and happily. I love this job, it has been where I have met my best friend and boyfriend and have made countless memories where at at 4am at the end of a 14 hour shift you all have a drink, laugh and then stumble home ready to come back to work in 5 hours where you’ll all be tired and hungover but you are all in it, together.

I love seeing people in the restaurant groan and laugh as one of their friends orders another round of Pornstar Martinis. Go on lads! Especially since the restrictions have lifted it has been a joy to work. Seeing friends hug each other intensely and later learning that they haven’t seen each other for 16 months. Sitting down to chat with an elderly man who tells me that he and his wife who has sadly departed used to come and sit in these same seats. Sometimes, I may be the only person a customer may speak to each day. I’ve been there, talking with a checkout operator for 5 minutes as they try to hurry me along to serve the person behind me.

It isn’t always great to work as a server. I am a sleep talker and walker. In a game my boyfriend affectionately call Buckaroo, I have woken him many times asking if I can get him anything else whilst places items on his chest.

But that's not the worst part of the job. It's when acting becomes part of the job.

INT. RESTAURANT UPSTAIRS. AFTERNOON.

Kate, her face damp and wed, grabs the plates from the food pass and immediately places it back down. She winces, grabs cotton napkins and wraps two around her scarred hands and another on her forearm. She grabs the plates and balances them in a way that only a server could. She runs down the stairs and approaches a table that is stacked with half-full pint glasses. She leans over the table and tries to place the plate down in front of a large MAN (56), his blue shirt stained with beer or sweat.

KATE

The plate is hot so please be careful.

MAN

I don’t plan on eating the plate love.

Kate rushes to place the remaining plates down then turns to the customer. The WOMAN (53) sitting next to the man laughs and slaps him playfully.

WOMAN

Ignore him. I bet you hear that all the time.

KATE

(laughs)

I haven’t heard that one in a while

so I’ll give him that.

I tell you now, I had heard it 3 tables before them and I will hear it in another 3 tables but I’m not going to leave the man crushed. Let the man have his moment, the dad jokes are endless. Acting Dahling.

Being a server is great, tiring and I balance doing that with a second job. Freelancing. Exciting to hear isn’t it.

Oh how dare you work freelance you lil daredevil, you. In this job market and financial insecurity. What's next? Skydiving without a parachute?

Very funny Kate, thank you Kate.

Not exactly. I freelance because it allows me to work in a role that I studied and almost had a breakdown at university for. That £60,000 headache of a debt which keeps accumulating not matter how much money I throw at it has to be for something. So, that is why I freelance. To give myself a reason to look back at one of the hardest times in my life and believe it was worthwhile.

I work as a picture researcher for an online news site. Very few people know that such a role exists and if I’m honest, they don’t seem to care to know. It’s an important job which on a few occasions makes me feel proud of myself. I may not save lives but I am certainly in a position to change them. As a lowly intern, I was able to pitch photo stories from small, independent photographers who capture rural communities and have them published on one of the world’s leading news websites.

There’s not much to add to this part of my working life. I sit in front of a computer for 9 hours a day with increasing levels of back pain writing numerous emails chasing payments I am still yet to receive for work I did 3 months There’s no scene to be written or a cast of characters I need to introduce because I spend it on my own, my third cup of tea to my left, in a sweltering flat with a fan blasting my face. Yes I know the tea isn't helping the heat situation but I'm English and northern it calms me down.

Now then, let me go. I have got to stop looking at this bloody screen, lie down with my fan and grab a gin and tonic with a wedge of grapefruit. I have just come from working 15 days straight alternating between swollen feet and back pain, not my choice. Neither job would allow me a day off as everyone is going on holiday now that Ibiza is on the amber list, or is it green. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had a holiday in over years, hopefully soon.

You're doing great Kate, thank you Kate.