Blog 14: It Happened at Denny's

I revised this blog after finding some letters from 1968 that I wrote to a then boyfriend in Santa Barbara. I didn't work at Denny's   in 1966 as previously reported.   As it turns I already had a few semesters under my belt at SBCC and was on a summer break.  I left intact, however,  all the experiences I endured while working there. 

I applied for a job at the Denny's near by, in 1968.  The interview with the manager hiring was a little strange as were his interviewing tactics. I remember going into a room with him and he looked over my application. Shortly before the end of the interview, he approached me sitting on the opposite side of his desk. Then it happened. He leaned toward me and attempted to kiss me. Startled, I didn't know what to say. He quickly said, good, I was just testing you to see what your reaction would be with a customer. The weirdness of the action and his words rolled over me. Still, "You're hired" temporarily removed the uncomfortable encounter. I was only 18 and maybe a bit naive. Times also, were different then.

So I got the job at Denny's. It was the Denny's by the Del Mar Racetrack. My female supervisor was a little overbearing. Over time, I worked enough as a waitress to typecast the gruff, overbearing, slightly or more than slightly overweight female boss. Nevertheless, I needed money and sort of had to bite the proverbial bullet at the time for my goal. I had to work my way up to the better shifts, where the tips were better. In the meantime, every morning I would rise to putting on the required uniform, brown, brown and brown. The night before, religiously I would prepare a very stiff mixture of starch and water to submerge my Denny's hat in before stretching it over a coffee can. The hat would add the finishing touches to my outfit, pinned to my upward doo covered by a hairnet.

Track workers and a jockey or two frequented the restaurant for breakfast, during the racing season. There was a grumpy old guy that came in daily and sat at the counter. Sometimes orders got mixed up. It happened. His order was always dry toast with whatever else he ordered. One morning I took and delivered his order as usual. I was very busy and I went to the other end of the counter to attend to a customer. Moments later, I heard as loud as a fog horn "I ordered dry toast"! I broke into gasping tears and left the floor. I still remember the humiliation! Fortunately the kindness of my supervisor in that moment of comfort caused me to reevaluate her.

Remember the manager? On occasion, we could hear a short scream come from the storeroom in between "order up". When I went back to see what was going on, the manager had backed away from the waitress he had cornered, and disappeared into the dining room. From appearances, his game seemed to be one of intimidation or harassment as we call it today. He seemed to prey on the timid waitresses. No one would tolerate such behavior today, but again, things were different then. I tried to stay clear of him when I could. For the most part that worked except...

One time I went into the walk-in refrigerator to retrieve some blue cheese dressing we kept in 5 gallon plastic buckets. He followed me in and shut the door. Within 15 seconds or so, he turned off the lights. I had little time to think of a strategy. So, not knowing if he would call my bluff, I said "If you don't turn those lights back on you will be wearing this blue cheese dressing in short order." Luckily he turned the lights back on, and I left the walk in. A few years later the assistant manager was arrested on weapons charges. I believe he threatened the manager that hired me. I recall the article hitting the paper but it would be buried deep in the archives now. I had been able to save some money, and I quit my job there at the end of the summer.

Walk-In Refrigerator