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Don't get excited, the number of i's in Hi is insignificant. I wanted to convey a lengthy form of the word, thus emphasising the sound I would have extended had this been verbal and not written.
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It is still Monday the 18th for me right now, and some of you haven't even opened the week 1 email, losers. They have no idea what they're missing out on. Same with my co-workers, only one of them has humored me and signed up. Shout out, Anastasia. I digress, my next deadline is far away, and I got to thinking, as one does, about the things that I interact with most..
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After hastily sending off the last email you received from me, I went out for breakfast and interacted with a restaurant. Can I bring restaurant work to your attention? Can you handle that? It's what I primarily do for work, and it both infuriates and inspires me. Yes, I have done other things for work, and yes, I have a college degree, so don't come at me with any little pity party bullshit about "GeTtInG a ReAl JoB" (here I go again with the misplaced uppercase and parenthetical clauses; would you prefer footnotes?) I somehow enjoy waiting tables, even knowing intimately exactly how ugly it is.
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Now is the point in the email where I disclose my bias, so that you can better determine for yourself how much salt you'd like to add. I've worked in restaurants since I was 14, primarily waiting tables, but never shy with the kitchen. It is so much so a part of me that I made my bachelor's degree all about it. Yes, you read that correctly, I made my degree. That is what Hampshire College is all about: discovering your passion, learning about it, and being able to demonstrate what you learned. In short, I wrote a big paper about the ethics of restaurant work, I declared my "majors" as Philosophy and Social Theory, and got a piece of paper in the mail with my name on a Bachelor of Arts degree.
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Gosh, I'm annoyed with myself. I wanted to tell you how full-service restaurants are a mutually beneficial form of community care.
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Now, let me explain a little further, because it's important to recognize all aspects of this, and I will, of course, tell you the pitfalls as well, which are pretty standard to restaurant work etc blah blah yada yada.
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Highlight reel of restaurant problems:
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- No one really makes any money, seriously, no one. Most waitresses make a decent amount of money in proportion to how much time they spend working, but with fewer available hours, lack of benefits, and unpredictable levels of guests, it's a grey area of income. Don't argue with me about servers in big cities; it's more expensive to live there, and I am sure a good portion of their compensation is based on falsely altruistic generosity with a heavy undertone of aristocracy, not (hopefully) 20% of the tab.
- Inherent hierarchy due to the wage vs time worked discrepancies between the front and back of the house, and the problems and abuse that are created and encouraged by this confusing model of compensation.
- People who eat in restaurants have no goddamned clue how any of this works.
Oh, are your little feelings hurt because you are a person who eats in a restaurant and you're confused by some of what I just said? boo-fucking-hoo. I eat in restaurants, too. That's where this whole train of thought came from.
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Restaurants. Are. Community. Care.
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... Sunday, August 24, for reference, and finishing this email so that leaving for mini vacation in the morning doesn't involve worrying about all y'all.
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If I'm being completely honest, I've lost my train of thought from last Monday, mentioned just a few lines above, although I do recall it stemmed from going out for breakfast.
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Still being completely honest, it's 10:45 pm, and I'm writing a cop-out because I spaced on doing this sooner. Oh no! I procrastinated on this newsletter. It's okay, I'm still new at this, it's my third rodeo, and I haven't quite found my stride.
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So, how about this: I have a dare for you. Do something for no reason other than to entertain yourself, and on the off chance, an unsuspecting bystander. I saw a person walking down the sidewalk the other day, and they must have been listening to music because out of nowhere, they were attempting to start an invisible lawnmower. Made me smile. This was not for my entertainment, but my witnessing of someone else's. Do you remember the last time you skipped? Do you know how?
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Alright, I'm done, that's enough nonsense. Cheers.
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