Three years ago I stopped. I finally concluded that I would rather gouge my eyeballs out with a spoon. I would rather be poor and penniless than to continue working as a waitress.
Apparently, the prospect of being poor and penniless is a stronger motivator when you are single and don't have a partner paying the bills. I finally broke down and took a job at The Palace. If you know where I'm speaking of, you can come and see me -- but only if you are a tremendous tipper :) and not very demanding.
You know, for as much as I have avoided this situation, the job really isn't so bad. Sure, you never really know when you'll get off of work and how much money you'll make...but the people are ok and it is something that I can feel good at amidst an inner world of uncertainty. I'm trying to convince myself that I am not regressing into my former early-20-something self. So, if you see me bellied up to a bar after work and intermittently stepping outside for a smoke break--please remind me that I have already done this and that it wasn't that great the first time ;)