Saturday, October 19, 2013

Honest Work, Unjust Reward.

It's been a rough time the past few weeks. I'm so used to doing everything slowly and enjoying moments in the late afternoon of laziness and reflection. But this school year, for some reason, I decided it would be a good idea to join three clubs, take time-consuming classes, and get a job. I'm now regretting a lot of those decisions.
Last week I got a job at the super ghetto gas station McDonalds. I told myself at the beginning of this year that I would never get such a job. However, after job hunting for months and turning in what felt like thousands of applications, I was desperate, and I was tired of being so poor.
In all of my interviews before, they asked me lots of questions about various scenarios that have happened to me or that might happen to me, like they were analyzing my every future move in advance. I carefully and lovingly chose every answer, but I was rejected at all three interviews nonetheless. At my interview at McDonalds, there were none of those questions. With a fly sitting on her overly hairsprayed bangs, my manager simply asked me what times I could work, and then sent me off to orientation where I was given a stack of legal documents and I signed my life away to a cheap franchise. There was no satisfaction in getting that job. I didn't have to do anything but spell my name. All of the places with standards didn't want me. It came down to the lowest of the low, and I'm still asking myself why I settled for it.
Friday was my first day of work. My friends made fun of me at school. "I'd rather be broke than work there," they said, laughing. I know they didn't mean to hurt my feelings, but I was sad because I felt like I didn't have a choice.
When I arrived at work for the first time, my manager gave me and ill-fitting, ripped, used uniform to wear for the remainder of my servitude. I put it on in the dingy gas station bathroom and then swept the lobby because my manager literally did not train me or look like she was ever going to train me at all. Luckily after about half an hour my friend from school showed up and took me under her wing. She actually helped me start to figure out what to do and how to do my job. (Drive Thru and dish washing. Gotta love it.) Everyone who works there is a kind of scary and it's so disorganized and everyone kept calling me Chloe. It was a miserable four hours, and my new life there has only just begun.
Is this really worth it?

1 comment:

  1. I love you Tessa! Don't give up, It's just a temporary job. There are better ones.