the service industry

Ocracoke is habit forming. So is the Cafe Atlantic, where I wait tables. We see the same visitors year after year. I like having an annual peek into the lives of others, celebrating engagements and later, anniversaries; watching babies grow into little people who can order on their own; wondering about that guy who always brings a different woman.

We can gauge the passing months by our customers. In late April we start looking forward to the group of Christian men who come for a retreat every year. They're polite and good tippers, but don't bother giving them a wine list. All teetotalers, at least around one another. Then there are the stereotype-busting fishermen from Pennsylvania who dine with us in May. They share a bottle of pink wine and are genuinely sweet, like the wine. One of them returns on vacation with his wife and family in the fall. In August the couple with great posture whose children have surprisingly sophisticated palates will arrive, although they surprised me last year by showing up in June.

Which is to say that there are plenty of visitors I look forward to seeing each year. Last night the merry, laid-back couple from Massachusetts (spring & fall; look like potential vegetarians, eat veal) announced that they had finally retired and were moving to their second home, on an island off the African coast. No more Ocracoke twice a year. Sad for them.

But lucky for me! They gave me their card, and now I'm thinking about vacationing on an island with great surfing, clear warm water, and superior fresh seafood. It'll be like home, but with a sexy accent. I can combine a trip with visits to Portugal and Morocco, two places I've long dreamed of traveling. Waitressing: the perks are awesome.