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Part of surviving college is having a part-time job that you may or may not hate — at least it is if your parents don’t give you spending money. My parents cover all the needs, but if I want something, that is on me. Since high school, I’ve always known that if I wanted something, I needed to get a job and pay for it myself. Years of part-time jobs at retail stores or restaurants gave me a nice appreciation for anything over minimum wage and a deep desire to get a degree and never have a part-time job ever again.
Cue graduating from college but lacking a full-time job. Because I’m not about to sit around at home broke, I went against my resentment for minimum wage and got a part-time job to fill the gap. Cars don’t run on empty wallets, and neither do my shopping addictions.
I showed up for the first day of training, and immediately started picking up on the rules of the establishment. I’ve worked in restaurants before — if you’ve worked at one sports bar, you’ve worked at them all. The girl in charge of training me was certainly just doing her job and making sure that I knew what I was doing. You can’t fault her for doing what the manager taught her to do, but in my head I was thinking, “Yeah, I get it. It’s not that hard to use a computer and place a food order” or “Wow, I had no idea that food has expiration dates!!” Call it being a snob or whatever, but going through training was almost enough to make me quit.
I understand that not everyone can go the same route with school. Not everyone can attend a four-year institution and get a degree. Some people have to work part-time to survive, and there’s nothing wrong with doing things differently. But damn if it doesn’t hurt my soul a little bit to have to take orders from managers that I could easily run circles around academically and professionally.
Education has turned me into a snob and it is really hard to take orders from someone when you know a monkey could probably do the same job. Granted, training exists for the person who really has no clue how to properly fold a shirt or sweep a floor. Somehow there are people out there that don’t even know how to use a mop. But I’m hoping this is just a nightmare and I didn’t just spend thousands of dollars to go back to being a part-time waitress for the next 40 years of my life..
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