There is a lot of crap that people try to pull at my TOTALLY AWSOME job (can you tell I’ve been watching a lot of AVPM??), but there are, at the very least, five important things these so called “smart” college students should know:
5. We have these things, they’re called TRASH CANS.
Put your trash in them. No, not on your table. Or on your chair. Or on the little thing that says “DISHES ONLY.” Although, I realize how that last one might be hard to mistake for a trash can. Especially since it looks nothing like a trash can. And since it is SO FAR away from the actual trash can. I mean, a whole two feet? You could be using the time it would take you to walk there for studying!! Why didn’t I think of that before?!
|Hey guys– half this stuff isn’t even recyclable.. TRASHFAIL.|
4. Signs are for reading.
If you ask me what the entree for dinner is, I will probably look up at the sign which is right in front of your face and read it to you verbatim. No kidding! I also go to college, and although you wouldn’t know it, based off the crappiness which is my job, I can also read! Now you should learn to read as well, and my job will essentially become obsolete!
3. We see. We judge. We talk.
|They should make “GossipGirl: Dining Hall Edition”.|
Spoiler alert: You know those people who are serving you food, but look the exact same age as you and are even in some of your classes? The ones that work at the dining hall and look like they have no souls? They are students at your school too. That means they pretty much know who you are, and who you hang out with. That also means, that when you walk into the dining hall to get breakfast at 1pm on a Saturday, and you are wearing your pajamas and hanging onto a girl who is still wearing a dress and is barefoot, they notice. They also feel no shame for the fact that they judge hardcore. I’m not sure how this suddenly got into 3rd person, but what I am trying to say is: WE SEE. WE JUDGE. WE TALK. If you come in every single Saturday morning with a different person: we see. we judge. we talk.
Oh, and we have nicknames for you, too. Are you a blond boy with long hair? You’re Retarded Zac Efron. Do you awkwardly stare at us instead of ordering food? You might be referred to as Awkward Staring Boy. Do you complain about everything? Well, then you’re probably The Effing Bitch. I’m not saying we’re creative, I’m just saying, we judge.
|Although it may be HOT, it’s not really my idea of high fashion.|
2. This is not my usual outfit:
I don’t know why people are always so surprised to see me NOT in my work clothes. Do you all think that I enjoy wearing an ugly hat and smelling like food all the time? Do you think that, even at frat parties, basketball games (hah. like I actually go to either of those, but not the point.), in class, and when shopping at the grocery store, I am wearing my hat and polo?
Also, and I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I do not remember every single person who comes into work. Even if I might have had a funny or cute or even “flirtatious” (hint: I wasn’t actually flirting, but oh well) conversation with you. As unrecognizable as I am without my uniform, a good number of you STILL manage to attempt to continue a conversation we had while I was working. At the library. Or a party. And then you’re surprised that I look normal in real life. Because I’m not wearing my uniform. I just don’t GET IT.
1. I am not a superhero.
No really though, I’m not. None of us are, actually. Know what that means? That means that I don’t have x-ray vision. Or mind-reading skills. Know what THAT means?
Let’s see… say you and your friends want to go get some food, so you head over to the dining hall as a big group. You go to the grill and get a double bacon cheese burger, wrapped to go. Then you, your friends, and your boyfriend (who you’re treating, of course) all head up to the cashier with all of your stuff on a tray (NOTE: ONE tray), where poor little me has to ring you up.
|Getting minutely closer, but nope, (unfortunately) still not me.|
Now, if I were a superhero, I would use my x-ray vision to tell that you had a greasy, slimy, double bacon cheeseburger and charge you the $15 or however much it costs for it (I’m really good at my job, obviously). I would use my mind-reading skills to tell that you got the burger and fries, your boyfriend got the small salad, your best friend got the sandwich, soda, cookie, and pizza, and your roommate got the sushi, fried chicken, and quesadilla. Also, I would know that you were paying for your anorexic boyfriend, but NOT your fat-ass friends.
However, and I can’t stress this point enough, I AM NOT A SUPERHERO. So, I can’t do any of that. And when I ask you what you got from the grill, glaring at me and grunting unintelligible syllables STILL isn’t going to make me understand. And when I “accidentally” charge you for you and your dumb friends’ meal (which is, again, all on ONE TRAY), don’t expect me to feel any sympathy that your mommy had to pay $5 extra today. It’s monopoly money, people.
I know that was harsh, but these freshmen need to learn somehow, and I suggest starting with these 5 tips.