Waitress Blues

My first job in the U.S. was waitressing (I can see the red underline below the word ‘waitressing’ but I’m pretty sure it is a word even if it is not a real job). I have had a lot of other kinds of jobs in between. Now, I’m back to waiting tables. Oh how inspirational! Anyways, this is the only job I can do when I go back to school because the work schedule is pretty flexible with my school schedule.

At first you think this is temporary. But then and again you are bound back to the same old routine until you are qualified to get a “real job”. I start my day by asking a very important question to strangers. I need to ask them what they really feel like eating or drinking. The Americans they don’t answer the question right away. They go-on about how they got into eating Chinese food and all that shit I don’t really care about. I have to nod and pretend how interesting their story is with a smile. And this is not a single costumer I’m talking about. All these people have a need to explain why they are eating certain food. At first I thought they are really friendly but after some point this gets really annoying.

Also this job teaches you to be a racist. It was my second day at the job. My manager tells me to watch a specific dude carefully. I looked at that dude and he was a black guy (African-American) in his 20s with his pants hanging down his knees. Apparently they have the record of not paying the bills and running away through the back door. And of course, we have to pay the unpaid bills. I was thinking to myself “Man, this manager is a racist. Just because he is black he won’t just run away. He looks like a nice guy.” Well guess what? That fucking guy ended up running away through the back door and I paid his bills. Of course, he had ordered the most expensive food on the menu .That Asshole! I felt like a fool and listened to my manager’s I told ya! speech. After that incident I carefully watch those guys. I hate to do that but I need to watch them.

Every other week we need to attend this pointless staff meeting. The manager asks us to be enthusiastic about the job because it shows in our work. We need to hear about the process of making a certain kind of food that is new on the menu so that we can explain to the costumer what really goes in the food. Now, we have this paper with the ingredients of food and we need to learn that. Along with my college papers I need to write, I need to read this fucking piece of paper with the ingredients of this weird Chinese food.

I need to be nice to all the people because we are paid based on that, even if you are serving the most arrogant son of a bitch in the world. I need to say sorry if the food was not good even if I did not make it.  I need to forget where I came from and how my life was like back home. They don’t care what caste type I belong to or what my ancestors did in the history of Nepal. All I need to do is the job. And I get paid according to that. It helps me pay my rents and tuition fees

All of these stories are sadly true. I wish I had made this up 😦  In short I hate my job. But how pathetic would it be if I loved my waitressing job? That would be really sad. Hopefully, in near future I will happily quit this for a nice job. I will wake up every morning getting excited to get to work (yeah right! Haha). At least the day won’t start by saying “Man, I so want this day to be over soon”.

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