I'd walked into the establishment on a whim, not really out of any expectation of success.
"Dude, if you're just looking for some part-time hours, you should swing by there," Thomas's 17-year-old friend, Jewfro, told me. "They're looking for help."
I did not, to be sure, have any burning desire to work in a fast-food restaurant mere months after earning my college degree, but the ever-dwindling figures on my bank statements and the ever-climbing bills--from Sallie Mae, from AT&T, from my parents--swayed me. In I went.
"Can I have an application?" I asked the dark-skinned man behind the counter.
Greek Man looked up at me with squinted eyes.
"You wait five minute," he said.
"What?"
"You--you wait five minute."
"Um, okay."
Nonplussed, I took a seat in the dining area until the manager summoned me with a gesture of his hand.
"You come here now."
I walked to the back office, where Greek Man surveyed me again.
"How old you?"
"Twenty-three."
"You in high school?"
"No, I'm twenty-three."
"You graduate yet?"
"Yes. I'm twenty-three."
He stroked his chin.
"You work with food before?"
"No."
He must have appreciated my honesty, because his next words were, "You come Monday."
"For an interview?"
"No," he responded. "You work."
For the smallest instant I fought down the urge to say "I need more Lemon Pledge," but the moment passed and instead I just nodded my head and thanked him.
Without really meaning to, I'd found a part-time job.
Figuring it couldn't hurt to test my luck some more, I placed a call to a local newspaper with the intention of getting their regular business hours and calling back at a later time. Instead the answer from the newsroom came after one ring, on a Saturday no less.
"Hi..." I began, caught a little off-guard by the fact that someone was actually there. "My name is BrightenedBoy Our Family and I just graduated from Major University. I'm looking for journalism opportunities in the area. Is there anyone there I could speak to regarding that?"
"Talk about great timing!" the man on the other end exclaimed. "We just had a reporter quit. Let me give you our editor's name and you can get in touch with her."
Just like that.
With my resumé and writing samples sent off, all I can do is hope that this publication sees enough promise in my work to hire me. And I mean really hope; I'll do what I have to, but no one wants to be a dishwasher when they're nearing twenty-four.
6 comments:
Timing just might be everything! Hope that works out BB. And worse comes to worse, you'll have a little money coming in and a chance to learn a fun foreign accent :)
That sounds great! I hope you get the job.
I hear you about the menial work, but I've "heard" that the employed have a better chance of finding a better job, and are happier, less stressed and in generally better health overall. And since you're on a streak, you'll probably get the newspaper job, too! GOOD LUCK!!!
Peace <3
Jay
Yay!
Being in the right place at the right time can make all the difference. It may well have been Providence that you spent the time at the fast food place that resulted in your calling the newspaper at the time you did. So you've got some income, and you certainly can write so I'd guess you have a good chance of getting the reporter job.
Best of luck! I'll keep my fingers crossed for the newspaper job.
If I were you, I'd keep the fast food job too. If nothing else it'll give you some great stories to write. Seriously.
Now it's a few days since you wrote this. How'd it all turn out?
Really hoping it's all good!!
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