I have been doing a lot of automotive writing lately and frankly I am sick of it and need some change.
Earlier tonight I was reading an excerpt from Barbara Ehnereich's book Nickel and Dimed for a class I have tomorrow. It's actually a different excerpt than what I have linked to but I wanted to share her vibe with you anyways.
Anyways the book is about working unskilled labor jobs to survive at the poverty level. The author went out and tried this.
The excerpt I read detailed the work Ehnreich did at a restaurant as a waitress.
This brought me back to when I worked for Sonic Drive In and I wanted to share my experience. I have a lot to say but Ill try to make it brief and chronological.
Frankly, when I was 15 my parents caught me smoking pot for the second time and I vowed to quit. This, to me and my parents, involved getting a job. One weekday after school my mom took me out to put applications in. I applied a few places but got only one bite, Sonic.
I went in the following week for an interview. Aaron the energetic, wiry, by the book general manager asked me a few questions like "do you know how to count money?" I answered all as I thought he would like to hear them. I got the job. I was thrilled. No really, I was.
The first day of work, a warm early spring Saturday, I am on drinks. This involves filling up cups with soda, to making ice cream Sundays. Drinks are huge business at Sonic. We get slammed with customers and all of them seem to want something special in their drink. Orders for blended shakes with candy inside, tiny banana splits, slushies of all colors of the rainbow and cokes with chocolate in them bombard me.
Once busy time flies. I am amazed by how unadulterated people I work with are. Smack talk, cigarette cravings, and loud brandishing of sexual desires for movie stars are the soundtrack to my day. I love it.
The Sonic building is small and crammed full of food paraphernalia. The front of the building hosts the ice cream, mixers, pop machines, cash register, and a small counter top used as an office. A row of deep friers, a grill, a cooler, a freezer, a smoking area, sinks, and bathrooms fill the rest of the store. The whole place has a very saturated smell which reminds me of a shake made up of burgers, fries, grease, and vanilla ice cream.
I work through the summer and into the next school year at Sonic. I eventually work every position I can at the store. I wait on customers, take orders at the drive thru, cook, and make drinks. My enthusiasm fades day by day and I start to understand why people talk so much about nothing all day.
I also start to notice some things about my work place. The first thing that occurs to me is that cleanliness is secondary to business and demand. This is first apparent during my first day. A huge rush sets in for ice cream and milk shakes. Customers keep pouring through the drive through and a waterfall of melted ice cream pours from the bottom of the mixing machine, across the small stainless steel table it sits on and onto the floor. A wet rag sops up some of the tributaries but the river continues to flow with business.
Cleanliness secondary to business also applies in the kitchen where cooks jump right into the work day without hand washing. It really doesn't matter though because after 15 minutes in the kitchen grease saturates the hands and makes water roll off with little to no cleansing effect. A sheen of grease also covers the tile floor and even after mopping it retains an unnaturally glossy finish to its adobe color.
Finally the workers, besides some high schoolers, all seem to be stuck. It seems like everyday a cook quits but two weeks later is back at it. My managers seem to be at the peak of their careers and only upgrade to other restaurants. Bleak wages seem to be part of the reason why people constantly want to leave and want to stay as most adult employees pay rent and bills and everything else that comes with life.
Drugs seem to be another contributing factor. I quit quit smoking after about 6 months of work because I know I can come in and do my job either way. Even though my boss specifically told me that I should not get high for work even though Sonic doesn't drug test. My fellow workers also know this but mary jane is an appetizer. Once my fellow cook, Johnny, a Vietnam veteran in his late 50's told me that occasionally smoking heroin was O.K. among many other drug tales.
Eventually management changes and the store is sold to a new owner. Only one manager stays around, Denise. She is a mild mannered, but strong willed, (truly) straitlaced woman, with a high pitch voice that rings through the restaurant during rushes as ambient noise turns explosive and apocalyptic.
Denise knows what goes on with the cooks but she lets it go. She knows they need money just like she does. I don't always agree with Denise but I respect her.
More and more I become disillusioned with my $5.75 an hour. I then get a raise when minimum wage raises and I still could care less. What started as a fun new thing has completely lost its luster. Eventually I get tired of my new boss and that puts me over the edge. I turn in my two weeks notice.
The last hour of my last day there is a rush. I am cooking on the fry side. I see the clock strike quitting time. Cheryl, the owners mother whom the owner calls by her first name, asks me to stay longer. Considering I have been her whipping boy for the past months I giver her a blank stare. She says something about helping out in an angry screechy tone and walks away.
I get the hell out of there before she can come back. The feeling leaving those doors is unmatched. I am free again. Free! I blast queen and rev the my engine as I leave the parking lot.
I don't come back after I pick up my last check for a year or two. When I come back I see some of the friends I had made still work there. Denise is still there and looks the same and sounds the same and seems the same. I see Johnny working the drive through one day. He doesn't recognize me even when I call out his name.
Photo Credit goes to Joey Lee @ the Chronicles (stickydilljoe.com)
No comments:
Post a Comment