One of my many jobs this summer (gotta keep those outta work teachers busy and out of trouble!) is serving la jollans and vacationers wishing they were la jollans on a private beach at La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club aka The LJBTC...almost not an abbreviation at this point.
The LJBTC goer is one of two people: A member, just your average bloke who can afford to pay $60, 000 to join a private club where he'll frequent the beach and walk around with a tennis bag, you know, the ones in the exact shape of a tennis racket. The other is the guest who is staying in what we call our "apartments". We pretend not to, but we look down on these people. They are not as great as the members. "Oh, you're charging it to your room number? Yea, it's probably going to be about 30 minutes for a Kids' Chicken Tender basket, I'll get it to ya when I can."
I spend my day walking up and down the beach with trays of drinks in one hand and Styrofoam boxes of food in the other. With sections called "North Shore" and my attractive uniform of khaki shorts and a bright green polo I can't help but feel like Kelly Kapowski on Saved by the Bell, the Beach Club years! I suppose I should be Jesse Spano since she was closer to being blonde, but she also was the type-A Brainiack, let's stick with Kelly. Spano also had that caffeine pill addiction during the college application episode, no thanks!
Working at The LJBTC opens up my eyes to a whole 'nother world. A world where beach bags and straw hats cost more than my rent for the month. At dusk, the beach transfers from sweaty children (although I'm still there and sweating) to BBQ's and Kendall Jackson chardonnay. Beach Services (the young gentlemen that wear red polos, make inappropriate jokes over the walkies and call the new servers "Fresh Meat!") go around moving the days' lounge chairs/umbrellas to replace them with tables/BBQ's. Stay at home wives (notice I did not say "moms") begin setting up their reserved areas around 6pm for what I am almost certain is a secret competition!
The last time I checked we were on the beach and checkered table cloths and sporks, were appropriate. Not here. Each table is decorated with the most chic of linens and only the freshest of flowers. There is generally a theme, but sometimes the lack of one shows her "crazy" side! Hurricane vases with purchased seashells and candles are a requirement and wicker must occupy some part of the lay out, perhaps to hold bottles of expensive wine and aged cheese. Being an interior design enthusiast, I slowly walk by the ones that intrigue me and take notes on my server pad...
The last time I checked we were on the beach and checkered table cloths and sporks, were appropriate. Not here. Each table is decorated with the most chic of linens and only the freshest of flowers. There is generally a theme, but sometimes the lack of one shows her "crazy" side! Hurricane vases with purchased seashells and candles are a requirement and wicker must occupy some part of the lay out, perhaps to hold bottles of expensive wine and aged cheese. Being an interior design enthusiast, I slowly walk by the ones that intrigue me and take notes on my server pad...
Plaid baby blue and sunflowers, just lovely
Yellow cloth and pink linen, how adventurous!
My that's a fetching hurricane!
I believe that with my studious notes, someday I, the sweaty beach server, could win Dusk Decor Competition!
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