If there’s one thing in life that I’m certain everyone should be required to do, it’s to… If there’s one thing in life that I’m certain everyone should be required to do, it’s to work in the service industry for at least a year.
I said it.
No exceptions of status, race, creed or gender. Everyone should have to be a fast food worker, beer wench, pizza delivery boy, gas station attendant, grocery bagger, retail clerk or server for at least one year of his or her life.
During one of my first jobs, at the tender age of 16, I was a banquet server at a country club. One morning, I was serving coffee to a table of older businessmen when one mentioned that perhaps The Congressman would like some more. I scanned the table — no one was wearing a nametag and I certainly didn’t recognize The Congressman. I circled the table several times, coffeepot in hand, half-tempted to play Duck, Duck, Goose on their balding heads, before one of the men pushed his nearly filled cup toward me and cleared his throat. I filled it the rest of the way as I realized the table had been scrutinizing my every move and was snickering at my apparent ignorance.
As I walked away, embarrassed and angry, I couldn’t help but wonder if The Congressman had ever been forced to really work for a living, to be considered merely “the help.”
Israel, Switzerland, Germany, Mexico, South Korea, Russia and countless other countries obligate every young male to enlist and serve approximately two years in the military when they are about 17 years old. All I’m asking for is a year in a low-paying, hectic-as-all-hell, get-your-hands-dirty kind of job where the customer is always right.
Sure, I might be somewhat biased when it comes to this topic, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I’m right. I entered the service industry workforce the day after I turned 16. Since then, I’ve worked in five different restaurants and one retail store, all in the span of the last five years. I’ve never been fired and I’ve only walked out once, but trust me, it was well-deserved.
I have no choice but to work in this industry because I come from a blue-collar background. I am, in fact, a coal miner’s daughter. So, in order to pay my way through college, I’m a full-time student holding down three jobs. When I was a freshman and everyone was partying, I was studying because I knew that class the next day was costing me about $75. Having to earn my money has always made me conscious of how far and how quickly it can go. If everyone had to earn the money that pays for their schooling, far fewer students would be failing.
As a server in several fine-dining restaurants, I have been forced to cultivate my ability to speak effectively with older and often intimidating customers. As a result, my confidence in my communication skills has skyrocketed and I’m not too timid to approach a successful professional because I know I can hold my own in a conversation. Working as a waitress has allowed me to make lasting friendships with my co-workers, as well.
I’ve met some amazing people, from Survivor stars to the ordinary Joes that can make your day. Even Quentin Tarantino stopped in one slow afternoon at the Primanti Brothers I worked at last summer.
Not only does hard work allow you to appreciate the money you earn, but also to appreciate the other people who you encounter on a daily basis who provide a similar service to you. Those of us who work in such industries can always pick out the customers who have or have not held down a dirty job. They are much more understanding and always, always tip better.
I don’t think a young person is prepared for the real world until she’s been screamed at for messing up a food order, spilling a drink on someone or forgetting a table. I’ve had to address a few disgruntled people, and I’ve learned how to handle them quite well.
Ultimately, I’m asking for an appreciation of the diverse abilities of the working force. We need doctors and lawyers, but it would be a dire situation if there was no one to pick up our garbage every Friday, fix our broken hot water tank or replace a broken head gasket in our car engine. In our busy lives, it’s quite often that we overlook these outstanding people who allow our lives to run so smoothly.
Sure, an internship can provide practical work experience such as making coffee or playing on the Internet, but the service industry — now that’s where one learns the true nature of people. And if everyone had to put up with that for a year of his or her life, I doubt they would be complaining so much about the pickles that accidentally got thrown on their burger.
Would you like fries with that? E-mail Jessica at jrp32@pitt.edu.
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