I put in applications today at Outback, Rockne's, Brubakers, and Johnny Malloy's. Hopefully one of them calls me back by Monday so I don't have to go out and put in more applications. I hate that crap. Why can't I just hand them my resume? I feel like I'm sixteen again filling out all that crap about where I went to high school and why I left my last job. Ugh. So cross your fingers for me. Hopefully by this time next week I'll be making money.
I went to Borders yesterday to spend some of that money I'm not making yet, and I bought two books from the sociology section about work. I'm trying to compile a reading list for my summer workshop/Bisbee trip for my classmates, and I was originally just going to have everyone read Leilani Hall, but then everyone else started talking about their lists and they all have some poetry and some criticism or theory on their topic. Got me thinking...maybe there is a way to bring some academics into this little project after all.
The first book, The Working Poor, starts off with the line "Nobody who works hard should be poor in America." It's a pretty bold statement, and I'm anxious to see if the author can back it up. The other book is called Gig, and it is a collection of interviews from people with jobs as various as porn star, carnie, and CEO. I read one from a highway worker (obviously I'd go there first) while I was still at the store, and it's pretty interesting. The interviewee is a woman, and now I'm wondering if Donny shouldn't be Donna, but I'm not sure I want to take on gender issues at the same time that I'm trying to deal with everything else. Should make for some interesting summer reading, though. Combine that with the job I'm hoping to get, and I will be in blue collar heaven over the summer. Back to my roots.
Back in the day, when I went against my parents' wishes, dropped out of Kent State, and moved in with my boyfriend (I was 19), I had a string of crappy jobs before I finally got hired at Westfield Insurance when I was 21. Those were the hardest two years of my life, but there was so much learning. I started out working third shift at Dairy Mart, selling coffee and chewing tobacco to the locals, and fighting with the drunks when they came in at 1:06 and wanted to buy another six-pack. They thought I was just being a bitch when I told them I couldn't sell it to them, but really, the computer on the register was set up so I couldn't ring up any alcohol after 1 a.m. (state law). I only lasted there a month, and when I gave my 2 weeks notice, the manager told me I was a snob and that I didn't have to come back for my next shift. Maybe I was a snob, but I didn't want to sell half-spoiled lunch meat to welfare moms anymore.
After that, I worked at a super 8 motel. Again, I was working 3rd shift (let me tell you, it is really hard to find a job with regular hours when you've got no education). This time, the highlight of the experience was having the cops banging on the door because I had fallen asleep behind the counter and they thought no one was there. Oh, and working with this woman who was charged with man-slaughter because her baby drowned in the bathtub. It was such a sad story, and she was such a sad woman.
Finally, I found the job at Ruby Tuesday that just about saved my life. For one thing, they had day one health insurance (a practice I think all minimum wage paying employers should use), for another, there was no limit on over time, so if I wanted to work 12 hours a day, every day, I could (and I did for the first summer), and finally, because I was surrounded by people who were going to college and they motivated me to get my life back on track. Eventually serving got old too, especially when the management changed and the food started getting bad, which meant the tips started getting bad. By that time, I had been back at school for 3 or 4 semesters and decided to start looking for a day job.
Even though that was five years ago, I still feel like I fit in better with the working class crowd than I do with the academics or the professionals. I can't really explain why...maybe it's because that's how I was raised; no formal dining rooms or fancy china, just good manners. Respect your elders, say please and thank you, hold the door open for the person behind you. Work hard, and when you're finished, play hard. My dad worked at Ford until he retired in '94 and as far as I can remember, he never took any over time because he wanted to be with the family. When I worked 9 to 5, I was out the door by 5:15 when everyone else was working until 6:30 or 7. Why? Because I was paid for 40 hours, and the rest of my life was more important than sucking up to the boss.
Academia is better because you're allowed (expected) to get the work done on your own schedule, so I don't feel like I'm tied to a desk 9 hours a day even though I'm probably working more than that most days. But I still feel like I'm...visiting. That's why I think sometimes I'll keep teaching part-time and working a second job because that allows me the flexibility that I crave and also allows me to straddle those two worlds which is somehow, a little more comfortable for me.
Well, I don't know where that all came from. I was expecting this to be a short blog. Anybody else want to weigh in on the working class/academia debate? I know there've been a lot of articles on it. Maybe I should read some.
