Personal Narrative Essay

Cruising down pinecone road at approximately 65 miles per hour, I couldn’t have been more anxious. I was dressed in a navy blue polo, visor and khakis, and was chewing my fingernails nervously in the June heat as my destination approached far too quickly. Suddenly, my mom and I were pulled over by a Sartell police car into a parking lot one minute before I was supposed to be clocked in for my first day of work at the first job of my life. I hopped out of the car and ran into the back door to be greeted by a smirking blonde working in the kitchen with, “I can smell new girl.” My dreaded first day of work had begun. I remember making my way through the kitchen, which at the time seemed more like a maze of oriental color and smell. A few of my

Never before had I felt so unintelligent and unneeded as in the initial moments of my first job. I stood back and watched the staff’s fingers as they took orders, rapidly selecting items, tapping colorful buttons, and collecting money. I stood back hoping that by staying out of the way I would be more beneficial to the front counter girls. As customers rapidly flooded into the store, I stood against the counter tugging on my ill fitting, damp khakis watching the staff fly around the kitchen.
Without prior instruction, the girls in the front handed me slips and yelled, “Make their to-go bags as best as you can!” As the orders came out, I put the food into bags and threw in forks and sauce, calling out names on the tickets. I made up the rules as I went and attempted to prove myself a competent individual after all of the embarrassment I had caused myself within only the first five minutes of work.
“You’ve been the best initial help of anyone I’ve ever trained before,” my manager said with a