D
Yo college essay all up in your grill. Lemme know what you think...if you care that is. And please dont waste time correcting grammar or spelling or anything of that nature because frankly...i dont care. This is going to like Sarah Lawrence and Beloit and im hoping to go for creative writing (creative being a key word) so i'd like to think they can get past some of that garbage. thanks in advance.
I am a dishwasher. I am not a varsity athlete. I am not valedictorian. I am not prom or homecoming king. I have never saved a life or even seriously risked my physical well being in order to help another person. I am just a dishwasher who works in a stuffy, hot kitchen for three to four days a week (depending on the volume of people we get on any given night). Yet I somehow feel as if I have been more prepared for my time here in the swirling mass of energy existing outside the confines of my high-school walls often referred to as “the real world” than any of those people that I am not. Now, before you have a good hearty laugh at this and file it away in the “Essays For Future Use As Butts Of Jokes” section, give me a chance to explain myself.
I have worked at Chez Sophie Bistro since June, when my good friend Dominic offered me the job. My first day on the job has stuck in my mind with a startling clarity. It has somehow managed to etch itself in the area of my brain that I had previously believed to be reserved for such things as my first kiss or the death of a loved one or the bottom-of-the-ninth 3 run homer off of Atlanta’s ace closer to cap the most amazing World Series comeback in history. The reason for the unnatural staying power of this day is due to the fact that on this day, I met a man who I can honestly credit with changing my life more than any other person I have ever come into contact with. His name is Randy and he has horrible knees. He often has trouble coming up or going down the stairs to the basement to gather supplies for the next wave of uneaten food that might at one point have been delicious or to visit his girlfriend who works as a babysitter for the restaurant owner/head chef’s young child. He works every day of the week at two jobs and still barely manages to make a living wage. He averages roughly two hours of sleep a night. I know for a fact that his home is not anything that someone would reasonably aspire to or want to have. Despite all this, Randy somehow also manages to “stay fly”. I remember at one point during a particularly busy night when he and I were having a difficult time keeping up with the constant flow of filthy plates and glasses still half full of 200$ wine, he told me that if we could just “keep our s**t bangin’” and “get goin’ and keep goin’”, we could get through it and afterward go have a good rest out on the porch in the dying evening light. I responded with a hearty “right on” and a laugh. Randy pulled on a new pair of latex gloves as a surgeon would and shouted out at the world that some would say has dealt him a bad hand “Here I come!” It’s moments like these and experiences with people like Randy that I feel make up the purest and most essential incarnations of life. Randy, through his tireless hours or work to support his small family and modest lifestyle and his unending happiness and energy throughout all of it, has taught me that the point of this life is not necessarily to get the best grade, or to get promoted to district manager, or to win the game. Life is about moving forward with hope and all the intensity and wonder of a small child who is discovering all the beauties this world has to offer day by day. He has helped me define myself and shape my attitude towards this world, which boils down to this; You do what you need to do and deal with whatever comes at you, but at all times, at any cost, you MUST “keep your s**t bangin’.”
sorry i dont know how to like compress this down or whatever you crazy computer kids do. word.
I am a dishwasher. I am not a varsity athlete. I am not valedictorian. I am not prom or homecoming king. I have never saved a life or even seriously risked my physical well being in order to help another person. I am just a dishwasher who works in a stuffy, hot kitchen for three to four days a week (depending on the volume of people we get on any given night). Yet I somehow feel as if I have been more prepared for my time here in the swirling mass of energy existing outside the confines of my high-school walls often referred to as “the real world” than any of those people that I am not. Now, before you have a good hearty laugh at this and file it away in the “Essays For Future Use As Butts Of Jokes” section, give me a chance to explain myself.
I have worked at Chez Sophie Bistro since June, when my good friend Dominic offered me the job. My first day on the job has stuck in my mind with a startling clarity. It has somehow managed to etch itself in the area of my brain that I had previously believed to be reserved for such things as my first kiss or the death of a loved one or the bottom-of-the-ninth 3 run homer off of Atlanta’s ace closer to cap the most amazing World Series comeback in history. The reason for the unnatural staying power of this day is due to the fact that on this day, I met a man who I can honestly credit with changing my life more than any other person I have ever come into contact with. His name is Randy and he has horrible knees. He often has trouble coming up or going down the stairs to the basement to gather supplies for the next wave of uneaten food that might at one point have been delicious or to visit his girlfriend who works as a babysitter for the restaurant owner/head chef’s young child. He works every day of the week at two jobs and still barely manages to make a living wage. He averages roughly two hours of sleep a night. I know for a fact that his home is not anything that someone would reasonably aspire to or want to have. Despite all this, Randy somehow also manages to “stay fly”. I remember at one point during a particularly busy night when he and I were having a difficult time keeping up with the constant flow of filthy plates and glasses still half full of 200$ wine, he told me that if we could just “keep our s**t bangin’” and “get goin’ and keep goin’”, we could get through it and afterward go have a good rest out on the porch in the dying evening light. I responded with a hearty “right on” and a laugh. Randy pulled on a new pair of latex gloves as a surgeon would and shouted out at the world that some would say has dealt him a bad hand “Here I come!” It’s moments like these and experiences with people like Randy that I feel make up the purest and most essential incarnations of life. Randy, through his tireless hours or work to support his small family and modest lifestyle and his unending happiness and energy throughout all of it, has taught me that the point of this life is not necessarily to get the best grade, or to get promoted to district manager, or to win the game. Life is about moving forward with hope and all the intensity and wonder of a small child who is discovering all the beauties this world has to offer day by day. He has helped me define myself and shape my attitude towards this world, which boils down to this; You do what you need to do and deal with whatever comes at you, but at all times, at any cost, you MUST “keep your s**t bangin’.”
sorry i dont know how to like compress this down or whatever you crazy computer kids do. word.