Yesterday at work I had perhaps one of the most "chew you up and spit you out" days I've experienced since I started. 8 hours of car. after car. after car. with never more than a minute break. I must say that the past few months have instilled in me a new respect for drive-thru workers. Seriously, folks- that job is tough.
It grinds down your brain, and wears you thin.
And you're polite, and you smile, but you're so burnt-out that you can hear that your voice is on the verge of cracking, and something rotten's gonna spill out. But you can't let it break the surface. You can't be mean, or rude, or disrespectful. Even when your customers are seething with resentment and the full fucking force of everything going wrong in their lives- because, essentially, your making them wait, or being a bit slow, or fudging their change is contributing to their sorry fucking condition. And all of this is directed at you, because you're there, and don't matter, and they can't very well tell their boss or husband or teacher or kids that they're worthless pieces of shit that do nothing but suck, suck, suck the soul out, slowly, and day by day. Just like they're sucking your soul.
So honestly, there's no point in getting upset at any one individual. There's no point, and even if there was, you need a fucking paycheck far more then you need to assert your own righteousness, affirm your identity- the fact that you matter, you're worthy, you're just as good as they are. So you smile, you apologize for your very existance, and you try your goddamned hardest to make every one of the hundreds of fucking faces you see each day just a little bit happier than they were before they came.
A lot of people think of my job- you know, the drive-thru window at Starbucks- as degrading. I'll give you that. Sometimes it does feel that way. The same people, I'm sure, generally look down on the fast food industry and those whom it employs. If you work fast food, the assumption seems to be, you must just be a mindless cog in the machine, right? You must be working there because you have not the ambition or the intelligence or the integrity to "better yourself".
Let me call "bull fucking shit" on this one.
Anyway.
-Hyena.
It grinds down your brain, and wears you thin.
And you're polite, and you smile, but you're so burnt-out that you can hear that your voice is on the verge of cracking, and something rotten's gonna spill out. But you can't let it break the surface. You can't be mean, or rude, or disrespectful. Even when your customers are seething with resentment and the full fucking force of everything going wrong in their lives- because, essentially, your making them wait, or being a bit slow, or fudging their change is contributing to their sorry fucking condition. And all of this is directed at you, because you're there, and don't matter, and they can't very well tell their boss or husband or teacher or kids that they're worthless pieces of shit that do nothing but suck, suck, suck the soul out, slowly, and day by day. Just like they're sucking your soul.
So honestly, there's no point in getting upset at any one individual. There's no point, and even if there was, you need a fucking paycheck far more then you need to assert your own righteousness, affirm your identity- the fact that you matter, you're worthy, you're just as good as they are. So you smile, you apologize for your very existance, and you try your goddamned hardest to make every one of the hundreds of fucking faces you see each day just a little bit happier than they were before they came.
A lot of people think of my job- you know, the drive-thru window at Starbucks- as degrading. I'll give you that. Sometimes it does feel that way. The same people, I'm sure, generally look down on the fast food industry and those whom it employs. If you work fast food, the assumption seems to be, you must just be a mindless cog in the machine, right? You must be working there because you have not the ambition or the intelligence or the integrity to "better yourself".
Let me call "bull fucking shit" on this one.
Anyway.
-Hyena.
VIEW 19 of 19 COMMENTS
I would dread the start of the shift and that empty feeling I'd get in the pit of my stomach waiting for first call. Eight hours of the same five minute conversation with the same angry people. That mental grind, and the irritation that starts to seep through your phone voice. Finally, att the end of the day you've done nothing but sit on your ass and for some reason your completely exhausted.
I feel for ya Don't let the assholes of the world tear you down because most of the people you serve couldn't hack it serving the public.