…so many jobs you look at and say to yourself, “god, who ever thought to themselves, ‘you know, i could really see a great career in this gas station?’”
…but it never seems like a career when you sign on. it’s always, “well, i’ll work this until something better comes along.” but it never comes. you work, you get older, you’re not looking for that better job, and the next thing you know, you’re forty years old and still carrying lumber out to someone’s car for them at the Home Depot…
…there’s nothing more upsetting to me than seeing someone who accidentally made a career out of checking groceries. they get so ahead of themselves: get a job, get a spouse, get a home, get a car, get some kids. they forget to look for quality in all those things…
…is it a good job? will it support three kids, a wife, and a mortgage? is your spouse really someone you want in charge of half your life? or is he/she just conveniently there? can you afford that car payment? or will that car payment bind you helplessly to that shitty job?
…i’ve had a lot of time to think about this sort of thing lately. i picked up a graveyard cooking shift at a local restaurant to make some extra money before the band leaves again in two weeks. but this restaurant is one of those places that sucks someone in and puts a barbed hook through your life if you’re not careful…
…the main cook, Ed, is possibly the saddest man i’ve ever met. he has, since i started a week ago, probably worked fourteen eight hour shifts. when i met him he’d been working for 36 hours straight. this poor guy allowed himself to put his crappy job before all else and it swallowed him whole. now he works more than the owner, the kitchen manager, and the other cooks combined, because he’s there helping them on ALL their shifts. i haven’t worked a shift where he wasn’t there when i showed up and ‘just finishing this one thing real quick’ when i left…
…he hates his job. don’t let me lead you to believe that i’m sad for this incredibly ambitious guy that loves his work. i’m sad for a poor old man who has shifted the entire weight of a low-class all-night diner onto his shoulders and now can’t leave without seeing everything collapse; he’s not morally capable of abandoning the owners, whom he sees as friends and who see him as a way to cut labor costs (he works for no overtime and often for free)…
…he’ll die in that diner. probably because of that diner. exhaustion, stress, poor diet, it’ll kill him. meanwhile, i’ll just add to his problems because i’m dodging the bullet and quitting as soon as i’ve made enough to pay my phone bill for three months and get a few meals…
…and this poor guy, he’s everywhere. almost every shitty job has this guy, hating his life, working for someone else, feeling like he can never leave because of his loyalty to someone that doesn’t care about him…
…this is my plea to all my friends: don’t become that guy.
love,
jason