Lunch and dinner at the Sea Foam were like breakfast—long-drawn-out meals. A waitress seldom got rid of her guests under a half-hour after the dining-room closed, and often it was a full hour.
When on “early watch” a waitress had to be in the hotel dining-room not later than six in the morning. This is for the convenience of guests leaving by early train. “Late watch” means remaining until midnight to serve guests arriving on late trains or those who, after a promenade along the shore, felt the need of an extra meal. Being on watch does not curtail in any particular the regular duties of a waitress.
On one such occasion my diary reads: “April 2, 1917. Went on watch at 5.58 A. M., served four early breakfasts and reset tables. Return Belgrave at 6.46 and ate my breakfast. Back in dining-room at 6.57. Put water, ice, and menus on my table. The family of the multimillionaire having left the night before, the assistant head waiter gave me three two-seaters nearer the dining-room door. I set up these tables and served six breakfasts. Returned to Belgrave at 11.32. Ironed two aprons, a white skirt, a petticoat, and two collar-and-cuff sets. Ate my lunch and was back in the dining-room at 12.57. Served seven lunches and then held open the dining-room door for fifty-two minutes that late guests might pass out. Rolled the carpet, set up my tables and returned to Belgrave at 4.15. Rested nearly a half-hour, then pressed my black waist, took a bath, went to a store on the corner for some peanut butter and crackers. Ate dinner and returned to the hotel dining-room at 6.07. Served eight dinners and went off duty at 8.56.”
Do not forget that at the Sea Foam it is not considered good form to employ bus boys. A waitress not only brings in all food but she must carry out all dishes and wash, polish, dry, and bring back to the dining-room all china, glass, and silver used on her tables.
My diary for the following day, April 3, reads: “Yesterday was a memorable day in the history of our country—perhaps of the world—President Wilson asked Congress to declare that a state of war exists between the United States and Germany. Excepting myself I believe every waitress in the Sea Foam has written either to the secretary of war or direct to the President offering her services. So far as the six persons at my tables are concerned only the little boy from Wilmington, Delaware, has shown any interest in the matter. He came in a half-hour ahead of his mother this morning and spent the time talking to me about our preparedness, etc. He’s a dear little chap.”
Only lack of money kept me at Sea Foam. Before the end of my second week I had learned more than enough to understand why women and girls prefer to eke out an existence on the meagre wage received in shops and factories rather than enjoy the “home comforts” offered by domestic service. Only the experience of Beulah, a dear little girl from Canada, prevented me from giving up my job and returning to New York.
Beulah, whose season in Bermuda had been cut short by the war, came to Sea Foam on a three weeks’ contract. Through a waitress friend she received an offer of a permanent position in a hotel near New York City. Though it was ten days before Easter and gave the head waiter ample time to fill her place, he not only refused to pay the wage due her but threatened to have her black-listed in hotel employment bureaus. In order to reach her new position Beulah was forced to borrow money to pay her railroad fare.
Not wishing to write and borrow money of Alice to pay my way back to New York, I determined to get myself discharged. How to accomplish this without doing anything rude or disorderly became my problem. When, a few days before Easter, the assistant housekeeper of the Belgrave confided to me that the head waiter had confided to her his intention of giving me a year’s contract, perhaps making me a “captain,” I gritted my teeth. Determined not to borrow of Alice, I was equally as determined not to remain to the end of my contract.
The day before Easter I was put on early watch for the second time. As waitresses are supposed to take turns at watch duty, believing that my opportunity for getting myself discharged had come, I hurried to the head waiter. He listened to my complaint against his assistant and then explained that he had suggested my being put on watch because there were so many new waitresses who could not be trusted to “swing the job.”
“You’ve got a head on your shoulders,” he informed me. “The management has decided to keep you on after Easter. That’s the reason I’m pushing you forward—to get you promoted.”