Jun 06, 2006 00:21
Let's cut to the chase. Most people find it terribly ironic that I am currently working in a Chinese restaurant because I am a crappy Asian. Someone remarked to me that I am so whitewashed that even though I, endearly known as a "twinkie," the white shows through the yellow exterior. My obvious disattachment from the mainstream Asian culture is blatantly apparent at work. I am the only person working there who speaks English better than Chinese (which makes me a hot commodity as waitress.) When customers clumsily try to speak some Chinese (it usually sounds like the words got regurgitated/thrown into a blender), I automatically respond in English. Eh. My friends see this job somehow as an attempt to find my roots, but they forget one important thing. It's China King. The fine dining it serves up include such fan favorites as pepperoni pizza, chocolate ice cream, blueberry cobbler and other delightful treats along with the usual pseudo-Chinese/American fare of General Tsao's Chicken and fried rice.
However, although I've only worked there for one week, I've already picked up a lot of life skills that will benefit me for all eternity, such as remembering five orders at a time to cleaning up messes made by those who are still incapable of eating with utensils to smiling at everyone, despite how little they tip me. By the way, a nickel does not constitute a tip for a table of 4. However, it seems like the most important lesson is just working the job itself. I think it will help me truly appreciate a high-paying job because I will know how it feels to be at the bottom of the totem pole. Gosh, I guess that's why I'm going to college...