It's probably not a secret that I work at Burger King. I like to complain about it on Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr and real life and everything, and I also am sure that my ass has gotten the opposite of "more toned" since I began working at the land of chicken tenders, fries and ice cream.
I think some of us who are lucky enough to have a liberal arts education tend to look down on fast food people. Maybe I was the only one, but I think we are quick to judge. When we are being trained to be teachers and economists and we have snazzy internships, what do we think about the folks behind the counter who serve us fried things? Most likely, that they're not as educated as we are. That they are supporting their kids, and they probably had their kids really young. That they kind of don't give a damn about us. And maybe, depending on their skin tone, that they are here illegally.
Basically, that we are on a higher tier than they are.
Yeah, I have thought those things in my young life about people I've seen out and about. I'm not proud of it and I know there are others here and elsewhere in the world who have.
When I began working at BK (I also call it The Burger or Beta Kappa Sorority when I feel like it), I was kind of apprehensive about my coworkers. It is hard to explain why. First of all, my fiancee got me the job. So that's awkward. But from what she had told me about work, it sounded like it was a crew of young parents, immigrants, some students, and the random middle-aged folks. I wasn't sure how I would fit in to the group.
Well, my assumptions were correct. Everyone in that store can be fit into one of those four categories. There are people there from many different walks of life, and my own personal walk is quite different from everyone else's. And the experience has been something that has made me yell, laugh, be afraid, be confused, be pissed off and everything in between...you don't know how infuriating the human race can be until you have put on a visor and a drive-thru headset.
But let me tell you something about working in fast food that I have realized. When you have customers on the phone and in line at the counter and backed up in the drive-thru, no one cares that you go to an expensive school. When a timer is beeping at you to go faster and you just spilled 40 ounces of fruit punch into the ice bins, it doesn't matter how many friends you have on Facebook or how drunk you got last night. When some stupid kid pukes in the Playland and you have to mop it up, nothing matters LESS than the fact that you have a fancy grant to a foreign country. All that matters when you are in those situations is that you are quick to react, good with the customers, and working like a team. My degree really doesn't help me at The Burger. At all. What helps me is my common sense (lacking) and my people skills (a redeeming quality if I have had enough caffeine).
I know getting a good job means everything to us, and our parents. I know that being in fast food is something many of us might be ashamed of. Why get out of school just to scoop fries and hand fatty snacks out a window? I think a lot of us have big plans. I know I do. But I also know there is nothing wrong with taking a job we may think is "below us" to make some money while we look for something more suited to our major or our life plan. It teaches you something. It's pretty humbling, as a matter of fact.
Some of us may be on a TiPiT or have a great internship. Those folks are people to be proud of. But those who are at some minimum-wage gig are just as worthy of our pride and our support. Dream as big as you want to, but don't be afraid to take a few extra baby steps to get to the top.
...do you want cheese on that?
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