With the spring semester over, I finally got to reward myself with some well-deserved rest. I slept until 2pm, rotted my bed, and finally met up with some friends from back home. Being back home is always a great time to relax and hang out with old friends, but it also means I can go back to work part-time. My job is a regular food service job, not a cushy office job or a summer internship that could potentially help me in the future.
I've been working at a small family-owned Italian restaurant since I was 16. I started working there a few days after my birthday and haven't had another job since. I turned 19 this summer and have been working there for 3 years. It's the first and only job I've had and I don't plan on quitting anytime soon.
Since I started college, every time I have a day off I go back to the restaurant, do a few shifts, and then leave when the day is over. It's a never-ending cycle that I can't escape no matter how much I want to, and I don't understand why this job has such a grip on my life. It's like a blood bond that can't be broken.
This summer, I was offered the opportunity to work at a rehabilitation center. As a nursing student and future nurse, you would think that I would have accepted the job offer that was presented to me on a silver platter. However, I declined because I was not ready to work in that field and could consider the job next year. Looking back, this was not a very wise decision, but I decided to turn down the opportunity and return to my previous job at the restaurant.
It's not a total lie to say I'm not ready for a medical career, but I know there are many more reasons why I turned down the job offer. Having to quit my job means that my life is starting to get more serious, which means that I'm actually an adult with real responsibilities. It means that I have to face the reality that I'm not a kid anymore, although sometimes I still feel like a 16-year-old girl. In fact, thinking about quitting makes me feel like a betrayal towards my colleagues, even though I know I don't owe them anything.
I know I can't keep this job forever and that I will eventually need to get a new job, but I'm in no rush. Over the past three years, I've gotten to know and love all the people I work with. A lot of things in my life have changed in those three years, but one thing has remained the same: my work. I work the same hours, with the same people, doing the same job every shift. Nothing about my work has changed, and I hope to maintain this consistency in my life for as long as possible.
Although my coworkers may annoy me at times, I have grown to love all of them. To me, they are not only the people I work with, but also the people who have protected me. They are the people who comforted me the first time a customer made me cry, the people who give me a Christmas present every year, and the people who give my family free food whenever we order takeout. Although we sometimes disagree and fight, I wouldn't want to work with anyone else.
My job seems to have a lot of good points, but it also has just as many bad points. I work a minimum wage job and the average age of my customers is 65. Working in food service shows that many people have no respect for the restaurant industry. Dealing with rude people who don't tip and constantly complain about the food isn't worth $14 an hour. I should be paid double what I put up with.
All of this makes going to work harder and harder every day. Sometimes I have trouble getting out of bed before my shift. Knowing that my feet will be throbbing and my hands will be covered in pasta sauce by the end of my shift just doesn't motivate me to get up and do work. Even if I love my coworkers, it's easy to feel unappreciated. Technically, my job is beneath them — I'm just a waiter and everyone else is a server — but this little detail doesn't give them the right to treat me with disdain.
Even if I hate my job, I will still show up for every shift and work hard. I will smile at every customer who walks in and give them the service they deserve. I will try to enjoy the comforts of my hometown job and ignore all the things I don't like. Despite all its awfulness, this little Italian restaurant is a big part of me, and the day I leave will be bittersweet, because I know there are better things to come. But what could really be better than a hometown job?
Eventually, I will leave this job. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but it will happen. One day, I will return to the restaurant, not as an employee, but as a customer. Until then, I will probably stay in this job until I graduate. That way, I will have at least three more wonderful years to appreciate what I love about my hometown – its amenities and the things that remain the same even when everything else changes.
Danae Poteat writes primarily about pop culture and current events. Email her at dmp152@pitt.edu.
