You'd think working in fast-food would have one advantage over a real job, and that is that when you leave a fast-food job for the day, you leave a fast-food job for the day. Fast-food is not the kind of job that keeps you awake at night, unless you count the nights you spend up wondering how you are going to pay the bills on your fast-food paycheck, which for me is almost every night, so there's that...
Okay, yeah, it does keep you up at night, but...
I think what I hate most about my job is the uniform, the ill-fitting polyester that says, "Hey world, I work in food service!"
The uniform that says to random people on the street, "Talk to ME about
all things fast-food, your loves, your hates, the prices and hiring
practices, because
I CARE. "
Nothing makes a person feel like a part of the community like being approached on the sidewalk or at
the grocery store or at their kids' school by a member of the
general public who feels compelled to remind them they work in fast-food (just
in case their self-preservatory sense of denial is working and they've
forgotten) to then ask in true stalker fashion, "Which one?" As a matter of fact, it's the next best thing to when a total stranger uses your first name in public!
No no, I DID have time to go home, shower, change my clothes and chill
out for a minute before I came here, I just REALLY love being a part of a fast-food family. Wearing the colors with pride. The fact that there are only a certain number of
hours in the day has absolutely NOTHing to do with the fact that I'm out
running errands in a shirt that's hermetically sealed in grease.
So
next time you see your friendly neighborhood food-slinger out in
public, feel free to give 'em a shout. They might even respond with the
special fast-food one-finger salute.
Assholes.
No comments:
Post a Comment