It's nearly 3 AM in the morning. By the time I finish writing this, it will probably be past 4 AM. I just feel like I have to write this down to help take the weight off. If you're reading this expecting something funny, scroll down to another one of my blogs as this is coming straight from the heart.
I just finished having a 2+ hour talk with an online friend I first met probably a year or so ago on battle.net playing Diablo 2. He had quit for about 3-4 months, and he had just come back for the first time tonight. I saw him on and started casually talking about stuff...where he's been, if any of his characters had expired, etc...
Eventually, he revealed why he had been absent from Diablo 2 for so long. Apparently, his wife has been cheating on him recently and they are considering a divorce, which is heartbreaking because they have a young child named Dylan who is too young to understand any of this now but who may end up growing up with only one loving parent. Because of this, he feels isolated and alone and depressed about life in general.
Without going into too many details as I don't want to expose too much of what he told me to the general public, I want to give some background as to the situation. Dave (the friend I was talking to) is 20 years old right now and married to Lynae, who is 19. They got married about a year ago or so due to the fact that Lynae was pregnant with their child, Dylan.
Long story short: Lynae recently cheated on Dave with his best friend, Jared. Several months after it happened, Lynae told Dave about it and since then it has literally torn Dave apart to the point where he feels he is at rock-bottom and has nowhere to turn. He told me he has always had low self-esteem and was never very social, and that the only 2 people that he really opened up to were Lynae and Jared. So now that they have betrayed him, he feels that he cannot trust either of them or anyone else and he is now very dejected. He said several times during our conversation that he hates his life, and that he hates himself.
Personally, I have no experience with serious relationships like this, but I felt like I was Dave's last beacon of hope, and that I had to do something to get him out of this self-detrimental state he was in. So I listened to him pour his heart out about every little detail of what happened, and I did my best to encourage him and tell him that he couldn't dwell on this forever...that he had to continue on with his life and stop living in the past and to try to do what is right for his son Dylan. I'm not going to cover every detail of what he said and how I responded to it since I don't remember everything and plus it would just be too long.
One thing Dave has going for him is that he is religious and that he truly believes that God will be there for him when he needs him. I continually tried to encourage him to think of this experience as a test of will...that he needs to be willing to accept the fact that he made a mistake marrying Lynae at such an early age when she obviously does not love him completely, and move on without being so hard on himself. Fortunately, he has his ideals in the right place now. He wants to do what's best for his son and he wants to stay in his church and remain faithful. It's just that he has absolutely no self-esteem right now because of what his wife and best friend did to him so it's extremely difficult for him to do anything productive with his life right now.
So I felt that it was my responsibility to be Dave's support even though he didn't want to keep me up so late since he knew I had school tomorrow. But I insisted on hearing his story in its entirety and trying my best to make helpful and positive comments. I was really surprised at some of the insightful things I said throughout the conversation...I didn't even know I had it in me as I've never talked to anyone about anything like this before. As I reflect on some key parts of the conversation where I felt I was making an impact on his point of view, I think I really did make a difference in his life for the better.
He was very self-detrimental throughout the conversation even when I tried to accentuate a strong point of his personality or when I tried to put a positive note on the negative feelings he was expressing. He kept saying that no one would want to marry a 20 year old divorced father of one, and I kept telling him that it didn't matter what had happened in the past, but that he would find a woman who loves him for who he is...and not for who he was. And after about 2 hours of talking and encouraging and helping, I could tell I was really starting to get through to him. And that made it all worth while. I could tell everything that I said eventually clicked. I could tell that every positive thing I helped him realize about himself was starting to sink in...that he really wasn't alone in the world and that he really did have hope after all had seemed so grim.
It was a very powerful feeling for me to realize that I may have helped Dave get back on the right track of life. As the conversation started to end, he thanked me several times for everything that I said and that because of what I had told him, he felt he was able to restart his journey of living life again, after everything he held so dear to himself was torn away. He acknowledged that it was going to be a long and hard process to start anew after losing almost everything that was important to him. But at the end, he told me that he realized that he still has God to turn to, and that he always will have him throughout his life. He told me that I was a great friend and that he was very appreciative of what I had done for him.
And this whole experience was so new to me that I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, so I had to put it down in writing. I can't think of a better way to start Great Lent than helping a casual acquaintance from a video game literally turn his life around by simply saying some kind and positive words in order to start him back on the path of life. As I look at the clock right now, it reads 4:21 AM. I'll have to get up and go to school in 4 hours. But what's a little lost sleep compared to changing someone's life? It's an amazing feeling.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Monday, February 02, 2004
Where's My Burrito?!?!?
The time has come for me to post one of my favorite essays. It was originally written during my freshman year in college in English 100 as an assigned essay. The topic, though I don't remember it exactly, was something along the lines of choosing a cultural establishment and write about how it has shaped the culture surrounding it. Naturally, since I work at Taco Bell, I wrote about that. This version has a few updates in it from the previous essay, but nothing major.
Unfortunately, this blog site doesn't seem to be able to support Word smilies as in the original essay I had a running joke involving all different kinds of smilies and other Word graphics. But I'll just have to leave most of them out this time since they end up looking like little boxes. Hopefully this essay will teach you something about the life of a drive-thru cashier...
Where's My Burrito?!?!?
When I think about fast food, the first three things that pop into my head are speed, accuracy, and cost. However, I have found that my views differ from other people’s views. Amazing isn’t it? I think so too. For instance, the average American ordering at a fast food drive-thru restaurant is thinking the following three things: “I wonder if the person taking my order will be able to speak English?”, “Gee, I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to fit in the drive-thru”, and above all, “I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to make it through the drive-thru before it runs out of gas.” Fast food restaurants have a reputation for being a quick and cost-effective way to eat. Because of this, they have also made our culture one that is very fast-paced and that demands more out of every minute. People want their food and they want it fast. On the other hand, fast food restaurants have also made our society become lazier and lazier. If your average Fatty McLardbelly suddenly feels hungry because it’s been eight minutes since he last ate, he can just waddle over to the nearest fast food restaurant, toss five bucks in the general direction of the nearest cashier, and eat until he collapses due to massive heart failure. No longer do people have to stand over a hot stove to cook their meals. They can pay someone else to do it for them! This sort of here-is-some-money-give-me-food-now mentality has injected itself into the brain of Modern America, and seduced people into thinking that going through the drive-thru should be a quick and effortless thing, and if it ever takes longer than a couple minutes, they are oftentimes deeply distressed and angered. This whole Drive-Thru Mentality has taken America by the throat (or in this case, the stomach) and made our culture an advocate of sloth, gluttony, and indifference.
Of all the fast food restaurants I could talk about, I chose the one that I know the most about, and that is Taco Bell. The reason I know so much about “The Bell” is because I work there as a cashier. My store is located at Beach and Garfield in Huntington Beach. The exterior is pretty simple. There are large patches of well-kept green grass with the occasional palm tree planted in the middle. The building is painted tan and there are numerous windows with promotional posters hung on them. Behind the building are the drive-thru lane and the order box. The drive-thru lane curves around the left side of the restaurant and passes two windows. The first window is where I usually work and is where the customer pays, and the second is where the customer gets the food. It is the largest Taco Bell that I know of, inside and out. However, the drive-thru lane is poorly thought out. Hanging over the drive-thru lane are a bunch of pilings that form some sort of semblance of a roof. But when it rains, they offer about the same protection as a wilted diaper. On a rainy Saturday a few months ago, a customer came through the drive-thru, stopped at the order box, and the first thing out of her mouth was something to the effect of, “I’ve got leather seats, so I’m gonna roll my window up.” However, she said it so fast and incoherent that I couldn’t understand a word of it at the time. So there she sits for about two minutes with the windows rolled up, trying to decide what to get. Basically, anything over forty-five seconds is too long to be sitting at the order box, and since one of the main things Taco Bell stresses is Speed of Service, by this time my manager was foaming at the mouth with rage. When she actually ordered, she yelled (probably because her window was only rolled down a quarter of an inch to keep the rain out) out something that, to me, sounded vaguely like a wounded cow calling to its mother. If I understood her correctly, she said, “IwantANumberFiveNoTomatoesPepsiTwoBurritoSupremeNumberSevenWithSierra
MistNoIceAndThreeWiltedDiapersToDryMyLeatherSeatsWithBecauseI’maLittlePansy
ThatIsAfraidOfRuiningMyPreciousLexusThatIBoughtBecauseIcan’tAffordToPayTheGas
PricesOfTheBrandNewFordAircraftCarrier SUV. Moo.” Then when she got up to the window, she was snottier than Mucus Man™ in a pollinating field during allergy season.
I have worked at this Taco Bell for about a year and a half now, and during that time, I have seen many different people from many different backgrounds with many different life stories. I have experienced many different attitudes and customs that this culture shares. I find it amazing sometimes how different the people are that come through the drive-thru. Basically, I have sorted out the people that come to Taco Bell into three groups: 1.) The Nice-People-That-Smile-At-You 2.)The People-That-You-Don’t-Hate-But-Who-You-Wouldn’t-Necessarily-Want-To-Befriend, and 3.)The People-That-You-Would-Like-To-Strike-Repeatedly-With-A-Hot-Tire-Iron. The nice people that come through the drive-thru make my job so much easier. They are jubilant when you correctly take their order, they smile when they come up to the window, their voice has a friendly tone to it, and they depart by saying, “Thanks, have a nice day” or “Here, have some free money.” The second group of people are the kind of people who will tell me their order, pay, get their food, and leave. No friendliness is expressed by them in the least bit. Sometimes they won’t even say anything. They will just yell their order at the box, zoom up to the window, hand me a wad of crumpled bills and/or about five pounds of change that they found under their seat which is encrusted with at least three of the following: gum, candy, rat poison, insect larvae, battery acid, blood, sweat, tears, dinosaur feces, or lollypops. Then they leave without saying “goodbye” or “have a nice day” or “gee your hair smells delicious.” They just accelerate towards the second window as fast as they can as if there were a group of car-to-car salesmen chasing them. Last and certainly least, there is the third and most despised group of people. The lady in the Lexus that I mentioned earlier would fall into this category. Other fine examples would be the kind of people that demand that I give them “lots” of hot sauce. I ask them, “Would you like any hot or mild sauce?”. They reply by saying, “What? Wait, let me turn my music volume down from “Mach 10” to “Ear-Piercing”.” I then repeat myself, and they say that they "want a lot of hot sauce." So I get a little bag that I give every customer that contains their napkins, receipt, and a complimentary “1025 hours free” AOL CD, and into that bag I insert enough hot or mild sauce to feed eighteen hungry children in Africa. I then proceed to hand them the bag, at which point they exclaim, “Hey bro, can I get some more sauce?” This prompts me to look at them in a malevolent manner and begrudgingly take out my tire iron and…WHAM!!!!
In all honesty, I really enjoy working at Taco Bell because it really gives me a perspective about our culture and people’s attitudes in general. Personally, I don’t mind working at a restaurant that is very high in grease output and comparatively low in nutrition input. In fact, if there ever was a high demand for grease, Taco Bell could become a major world power. If I were you, I’d put my money in Taco Bell stock. I know I will. Just think, soon I will be the proud new owner of a brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV that I can use to drive my lazy self to the nearest drive-thru restaurant and order some wilted diapers to clean my leather seats with. I’ll be sure to bring along my tire iron in self-defense.
Unfortunately, this blog site doesn't seem to be able to support Word smilies as in the original essay I had a running joke involving all different kinds of smilies and other Word graphics. But I'll just have to leave most of them out this time since they end up looking like little boxes. Hopefully this essay will teach you something about the life of a drive-thru cashier...
Where's My Burrito?!?!?
When I think about fast food, the first three things that pop into my head are speed, accuracy, and cost. However, I have found that my views differ from other people’s views. Amazing isn’t it? I think so too. For instance, the average American ordering at a fast food drive-thru restaurant is thinking the following three things: “I wonder if the person taking my order will be able to speak English?”, “Gee, I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to fit in the drive-thru”, and above all, “I sure hope my brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV will be able to make it through the drive-thru before it runs out of gas.” Fast food restaurants have a reputation for being a quick and cost-effective way to eat. Because of this, they have also made our culture one that is very fast-paced and that demands more out of every minute. People want their food and they want it fast. On the other hand, fast food restaurants have also made our society become lazier and lazier. If your average Fatty McLardbelly suddenly feels hungry because it’s been eight minutes since he last ate, he can just waddle over to the nearest fast food restaurant, toss five bucks in the general direction of the nearest cashier, and eat until he collapses due to massive heart failure. No longer do people have to stand over a hot stove to cook their meals. They can pay someone else to do it for them! This sort of here-is-some-money-give-me-food-now mentality has injected itself into the brain of Modern America, and seduced people into thinking that going through the drive-thru should be a quick and effortless thing, and if it ever takes longer than a couple minutes, they are oftentimes deeply distressed and angered. This whole Drive-Thru Mentality has taken America by the throat (or in this case, the stomach) and made our culture an advocate of sloth, gluttony, and indifference.
Of all the fast food restaurants I could talk about, I chose the one that I know the most about, and that is Taco Bell. The reason I know so much about “The Bell” is because I work there as a cashier. My store is located at Beach and Garfield in Huntington Beach. The exterior is pretty simple. There are large patches of well-kept green grass with the occasional palm tree planted in the middle. The building is painted tan and there are numerous windows with promotional posters hung on them. Behind the building are the drive-thru lane and the order box. The drive-thru lane curves around the left side of the restaurant and passes two windows. The first window is where I usually work and is where the customer pays, and the second is where the customer gets the food. It is the largest Taco Bell that I know of, inside and out. However, the drive-thru lane is poorly thought out. Hanging over the drive-thru lane are a bunch of pilings that form some sort of semblance of a roof. But when it rains, they offer about the same protection as a wilted diaper. On a rainy Saturday a few months ago, a customer came through the drive-thru, stopped at the order box, and the first thing out of her mouth was something to the effect of, “I’ve got leather seats, so I’m gonna roll my window up.” However, she said it so fast and incoherent that I couldn’t understand a word of it at the time. So there she sits for about two minutes with the windows rolled up, trying to decide what to get. Basically, anything over forty-five seconds is too long to be sitting at the order box, and since one of the main things Taco Bell stresses is Speed of Service, by this time my manager was foaming at the mouth with rage. When she actually ordered, she yelled (probably because her window was only rolled down a quarter of an inch to keep the rain out) out something that, to me, sounded vaguely like a wounded cow calling to its mother. If I understood her correctly, she said, “IwantANumberFiveNoTomatoesPepsiTwoBurritoSupremeNumberSevenWithSierra
MistNoIceAndThreeWiltedDiapersToDryMyLeatherSeatsWithBecauseI’maLittlePansy
ThatIsAfraidOfRuiningMyPreciousLexusThatIBoughtBecauseIcan’tAffordToPayTheGas
PricesOfTheBrandNewFordAircraftCarrier SUV. Moo.” Then when she got up to the window, she was snottier than Mucus Man™ in a pollinating field during allergy season.
I have worked at this Taco Bell for about a year and a half now, and during that time, I have seen many different people from many different backgrounds with many different life stories. I have experienced many different attitudes and customs that this culture shares. I find it amazing sometimes how different the people are that come through the drive-thru. Basically, I have sorted out the people that come to Taco Bell into three groups: 1.) The Nice-People-That-Smile-At-You 2.)The People-That-You-Don’t-Hate-But-Who-You-Wouldn’t-Necessarily-Want-To-Befriend, and 3.)The People-That-You-Would-Like-To-Strike-Repeatedly-With-A-Hot-Tire-Iron. The nice people that come through the drive-thru make my job so much easier. They are jubilant when you correctly take their order, they smile when they come up to the window, their voice has a friendly tone to it, and they depart by saying, “Thanks, have a nice day” or “Here, have some free money.” The second group of people are the kind of people who will tell me their order, pay, get their food, and leave. No friendliness is expressed by them in the least bit. Sometimes they won’t even say anything. They will just yell their order at the box, zoom up to the window, hand me a wad of crumpled bills and/or about five pounds of change that they found under their seat which is encrusted with at least three of the following: gum, candy, rat poison, insect larvae, battery acid, blood, sweat, tears, dinosaur feces, or lollypops. Then they leave without saying “goodbye” or “have a nice day” or “gee your hair smells delicious.” They just accelerate towards the second window as fast as they can as if there were a group of car-to-car salesmen chasing them. Last and certainly least, there is the third and most despised group of people. The lady in the Lexus that I mentioned earlier would fall into this category. Other fine examples would be the kind of people that demand that I give them “lots” of hot sauce. I ask them, “Would you like any hot or mild sauce?”. They reply by saying, “What? Wait, let me turn my music volume down from “Mach 10” to “Ear-Piercing”.” I then repeat myself, and they say that they "want a lot of hot sauce." So I get a little bag that I give every customer that contains their napkins, receipt, and a complimentary “1025 hours free” AOL CD, and into that bag I insert enough hot or mild sauce to feed eighteen hungry children in Africa. I then proceed to hand them the bag, at which point they exclaim, “Hey bro, can I get some more sauce?” This prompts me to look at them in a malevolent manner and begrudgingly take out my tire iron and…WHAM!!!!
In all honesty, I really enjoy working at Taco Bell because it really gives me a perspective about our culture and people’s attitudes in general. Personally, I don’t mind working at a restaurant that is very high in grease output and comparatively low in nutrition input. In fact, if there ever was a high demand for grease, Taco Bell could become a major world power. If I were you, I’d put my money in Taco Bell stock. I know I will. Just think, soon I will be the proud new owner of a brand new Ford Aircraft Carrier SUV that I can use to drive my lazy self to the nearest drive-thru restaurant and order some wilted diapers to clean my leather seats with. I’ll be sure to bring along my tire iron in self-defense.
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