We Treat You Right (Redux)

Sorry that I haven't added a new post in a while. I haven't had much time in front of my computer lately. From talking to people in the flesh world it seems like I have gained a few readers. Thanks! Keep checking in; I'll keep on blogging, as bloggers do.

The reason I haven't been able to post lately is because I have a new job. Well, it isn't really new to me. I am working at the same place I worked in high school and the summer of my freshmen year of college. It is at the local Dairy Queen in the suburb I grew up in. My decision to make the switch was abrupt. Having the knowledge that I am going back to school in the fall my former job seems even more menial and its tangential relation to my career plans are further highlighted. A few weeks ago I paid a visit to my friend who is now the top-man at this Dairy Queen. He casually mentioned that he could pay me more and I casually began to think about it. Once I knew for sure I would be going back to school it seemed the thing to do this summer is make some money. I started last week.

A week of working at Dairy Queen for the first time in six years has spawned a conflict with both personal and interpersonal dimensions. I have a BA and my new job doesn't even require a high school diploma (obviously, I worked there in high school). So how far have I come in six years, after earning a college diploma? I have come full-circle, right back to where I started.

The personal conflict is pretty minimal. I know that I am moving on in the fall and continuing my education and taking it to a higher level. But to anyone who comes to the Dairy Queen drive-thru for a coney dog I am just some Joe who looks a little bit old to be working there. I want to be a person who absolutely, 100% does-not-give-a-fuck-what-anyone-thinks-of-me, and I think I am closer to that than most people, but I am not all the way there. But I certainly don't care what random anonymous people think of me, 100% on that one for sure.

The tricky thing is, this Dairy Queen is a block from my high school and is still frequented by my former teachers, parents of friends, friends of parents, and local grandees. I do care about what some of these people think of me. And if these people come through the drive-thru, I worry that all they will see is a once promising lad fallen on hard and pathetic times. Now, I know they would understand why I might be there if they knew my situation -- starting grad school in the fall, this is a throw-away summer, career wise. But there isn't a lot of time between when they see me and when they drive off with their Dilly Bar for me to lay out my five-year plan. I have to give them napkins, also.

I will have to just get over my waning notions of honorable employment. (I hate honor as an ethos, it is based entirely on how you look to others, I find the idea of it despicable.) Maybe I will also put out some sort of bulletin, just so everyone knows -- not that I am working at DQ but that I am going to grad school. Hell, I'm already telling pretty much anyone who will listen; it's all I can think about anyway.

I am under-employed, contributing less to society than my full-potential would allow. This doesn't bother me too much, because I hope to do so in the future once my potential has expanded greatly. DQ does not utilize my formal education or more than an iota of my intelligence, but that doesn't mean it is beneath me. By that I mean that I don't feel that I have earned the right to not get dirty at work, handle money, and deal with assholes. (Almost everyone is an asshole, in case you didn't know.) I may have gained the ability to do something that society considers more noteworthy or distinguished but I hope that I will never believe that hard work for marginal pay is something inherently beneath me. Anyone who believes that any job is beneath them believes that the person occupying that job is beneath them as well. This is how arrogance, elitism, and exploitation are bred. I have a college degree. So what? I am not above taking out the trash. One day I hope to guide other people to the understanding that they aren't either. More in the metaphorical sense, I mean. But Dairy Queen does still ask me to take out the trash.