Minimum Wage

                Now that I’ve graduated from high school and living in the big kid world, I’ve started to learn the true value of money. So far I’ve learned that a dollar can go along way and can buy you dinner if you’re willing to consume 1000mg of sodium and that what money you think you have saved up, the last of it will probably end up being tipped to a pizza delivery guy in about three weeks at some ungodly hour.  I recently started a new job at a local grocery store, as a customer service clerk at the deli.   My money is earned by wearing clear plastic gloves, scooping up specified amounts of assorted salads, and helping people decide what kind of meat they would want on their sandwiches for lunch the next day. Epic.      

                While I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to sell people over priced potato salad, I’m also lucky to deal with the people that come in and have no idea what they want and ask for my honest opinion about what I think they should have with their dinner entrée.  For those who don’t know or haven’t already picked up on, I have no opinion about most of the food we sell.  All I know is that I have to make large amounts of them, which grosses me out, and then refill them when needed. But for some reason people think I’m telepathically supposed to know whether thier nine year old will eat it or not. It’s an odd relationship people feel they have with me as the server of salads, slicer of deli meats, and boxer of the fried Jo-Jos. They put a lot of trust in me to guide them to what I think their craving. I had one lady come in and wanted to try our Greek Chicken salad but wanted to try a sample first. It’s a popular salad and I’m pretty quick to point it out to the people that are looking for my “professional help”.  She takes a bite of it and says to me “oh…yeah I don’t like that…it’s too chickeny”. Really? The title has the word chicken in it. It’s supposed to be “chickeny”. After that, our relationship seemed to go downhill and she didn’t seem interested in anything else I had to offer. I had put a strain in our relationship and she seemed pretty upset about it but wouldn’t come out and tell me because I was still handling her food.

                My job and the people I work with keep me on my toes. Growing up, I never thought I would be making money answering the question “was this meat sliced today?” and answering that same question by pointing to a sign conveniently located at eye level. I also told my mom I wanted to be a mail man growing up, so I guess I’m slowly but surely moving on up in the world.

                        Our everyday lives are everything but every day.