Personal Narrative: My Job At The Original Pancake House

Waitresses hurry between tables and the cooks’ aisle carrying armfuls of hot plates of chocolate chip pancakes. Bussers bring heavy tubs full of dirty plates, silverware, and glasses to be cleaned in the back. The dishwashers struggle to wash and return the dishes that rapidly pile up near the noisy dishwashing machine. The cooks sweat in their hot aisle as they try to keep up with all the food orders coming from the servers. Meanwhile, the noisy line of customers grows, stretching outside the building. By the end of the day all of the employees are exhausted and want to go home. I consider keeping my job at the Original Pancake House for 9 months an accomplishment, especially considering how quickly new employees quit or are let go.

I have looked up to my fellow busser Terry ever since I started working at the small breakfast place. He trained me on my first day working at the restaurant. He was very kind when helping me get used to my new job. I quickly noticed that Terry was one of the hardest workers on

As we waited for the last few customers to leave he mentioned that he had been to prison when he was younger. He told me about the years of homelessness he went through after being released. I was shocked because I knew Terry mostly as just a hard worker. He said he was limited in his career options, so he tried to make the most out of his job at the Original Pancake House. I realized there was quite a difference between the people like Terry, who worked to support his family, and me, who worked for some extra spending money. Although our backgrounds and motives were radically different, the value of work remained the same. I started to see the importance of putting my full effort into my work, even if it is just a minimum wage job bussing tables. Thinking about this also made me realize how fortunate I am to grow up in a nice household and community with a great