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Word Count: 540
When I first started as a waiter I imagined it would be fun profitable and a great way to meet girls I would walk away each night with a wheelbarrow full of money and a giant smile on my face Never mind that Id never been considered graceful they probably had tricks to get around that When I showed the managers what an industrious employee I could be they would have to recognize me as management material My career seemed drawn in khakis and appetizers ahead of me I could picture a nice home and family waiting for me after a hard day of work I began my career in service with cheerful determination I became severely disabused of these notions My own opinion of people once painfully optimistic turned into an attitude of malice toward the rest of my species I am not saying there are no good people left but I find that very few of them dine out Eventually I began to notice subtle attitude changes when people sat down They began to call me things like hey you and over here I felt my name being stripped from me every time someone did this I did my best to try to confront the situation I would stride over with a wide smile and introduce myself hoping they would recognize me as a person Just as briskly my enthusiasm would be waved away They wanted to know where their server was Of course they would only have a vague idea what their server looked like and somehow this was always my fault Little inconsistencies in the cooking somehow became my fault even though I never once turned a hand at the grill Management would come by and give them small inconsequential gifts to placate them so that they would return and complain The customers became feudal lords with the servers as their indentured servants We worked hard for them yet
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