The Food Court As Alternate Reality

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Work is a culture. When you take a job, you accept a ready-made family with its very own quirks, customs and skeletons in the back room. The fast food business has a culture that rivals that of any cutthroat corporation or gossipy office. Rumors reach the outside world, but can seldom be confirmed. The spit in the hamburger, a stray pubic hair in the burrito. Unconfirmed rumors...

For two years, thirty hours each week, the most important items in my wardrobe were a baseball cap with a logo on it and a smile. The customers were always right (until they turned their backs) and a quality product brought immeasurable joy to my face. Some said I had a job. And yet, I knew it was much more than that. Behind the windexed sneeze guard and bright yellow linoleum counters, another dimension lay hidden — thrived.

As a junior in high school I set out to look for a part time job. My first interview took place in the food court of a mall five minutes from my house. I came a little too well dressed, a little too eager and much too naive. My enthusiasm somehow sparkled off the dingy plastic table top in the bustling mall and the manager that sat across from me fed off my innocence.

“Okay Andrea,” he folded his hands across the worn paper which held the long ago memorized interview questions, “let’s talk about why you want to work here.” The next thirty minutes were filled with my polished answers to what I would later learn were considered “Mike’s bullshit questions.”

As we sat there Mike would occasionally turn his head to check up on his color coded employees as they stood at attention behind the counter. It was a rainbow hierarchy. Mike wore a purple shirt, symbolizing the royalty of management. The assistant managers wore blue and the rest were relegated to wearing a red that faded after the second washing. All wore hats that matched and cold plastic name tags stamped with bold black letters advertising our names.

“Well, it looks good Andrea. I’ll let you know in a few days after I have completed the rest of my interviews.” Mike and I stood up from the table and a janitor who had been buzzing around the food court looking busy quickly stepped around us and made a beeline for the employee exit.

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