college women, like Gault, consider it as once-in-a-lifetime (read that: ''never again") experience. Others, however, find that, hey, this is a lot of fun.
A graphic design major at Seton Hill College near Pittsburgh, Gault - who'd never been to the shore - got the job at an Italian family restaurant on the boardwalk where a college friend also worked.
Gault fondly recalls customers who complain about their spaghetti and clams . . . but eat the whole thing. And those who want separate checks and just can't accept the restaurant policy of one check a table. Or the people who complain about the coffee when the pot was just brewed. And others who have ''stiffed" her, leaving no tip. And . . .
"I think," said Gault, "I might be too emotional for this job."
"We get a lot of weirdos for customers, but we get a lot of cute guys too," pointed out Sue O'Mara, a Mansfield University student from Northeast Philadelphia, who works with Gault.
"I figure for the rest of my life I'll be 9-to-5, so I think this job is just fine for now."
"I can't wait to be 9-to-5," countered Gault.
What makes the experiences of seashore waitresses unique is that their life at the shore revolves around their job. Unless their families have a summer home, they usually rent an apartment or house with co-workers. They party together after work. And because meals are included in their pay, they generally eat where they work.
By mid-August, many waitresses are quitting because college begins on Labor Day and they want a couple of weeks of vacation. So, restaurants have "help wanted" signs in the window, and younger girls realize they can finish this summer at a popular restaurant and have a guaranteed job for next summer.
