I had two goals for this summer before it began: make money and get dreads. The first is pretty easy to understand. I have a car and it costs money. I also have great plans for European travels and an eight foot surfboard. The second was less important. I would like to have dreads at some point in my life, and it’s not really the sort of hairstyle that goes well with looking professional or being some poor kid’s mother. I figured that if i got them with my first paycheck of the summer, i’d have a good two and a half months for them to mature so that by the time school started in the fall they’d be decent looking. That was the extent of my summer plans.
At long last the warm months arrived (who am i kidding? they never really left) and i began my job hunt. I started with all of the places i could walk, figuring that way i wouldn’t spend any money commuting. I put in several applications and then headed to the beach. The next day i got a call from Sonic asking for an interview. Awesome. I went to the interview, was exceptionally charming, and the lady seemed to like me pretty well. She said that i’d have to interview with the other manager as well, though, and could i come back tomorrow. I agreed and left feeling fairly confident of a job. The second manager did not seem nearly so impressed with me, however, and instead of offering me the job, informed me that she had other interviews to do and that she would call me next week. Next week? I had thirty dollars in my bank account and my gas tank was half empty.
That was on Saturday, so the following Monday i looked up the local Chick-fil-a’s and found that there were two within a ten minute commute. I headed to the first one, filled out an application, and was about to hand it back to the cashier when the manager spots me and asks me to sit down for an interview. He saw that i worked at Chick-fil-a in Columbia, and says that he’ll call my manager there and let me know by the end of the day. I hadn’t driven more than five minutes down the road when he calls me back. Apparently Ashworth (my old manager) loved me (yay!) and David (the manager i just talked to) asked me to work 8-3 the next morning. Awesome!
I am once again a Chick-fil-a employee. I get Sundays off and i’m spared the awkward “i don’t know how to do anything” phase, but i have to kiss my dreams of dreads goodbye because Chick-fil-a is “high class” fast food and they have a strict dress code. (What the crap? It’s fast food! I should be able to do my hair however i want.) So i spend my last day of unemployment bumming around the house. During dinner Chick-fil-a calls me. It’s Matt, the other manager. He informs me that, upon going over the schedule, they don’t have space for me. Awesome. BUT he’d talked to the West Ashley Chick-fil-a and they have a shift for me. Awesome? Where’s West Ashley? A google maps search revealed that there were two Chick-fil-a’s in what could be considered the West Ashely area, and a facebook search led me to believe Matt was referring to the one by the hospital, the one that was 30min and a tank of gas a week away from where i live. Awesome. That same google search also revealed a number of Chick-fil-a’s closer, but should i really risk a given job while i went and applied to closer locations?
My plan for Tuesday was to work on the week’s dinner plans and my grocery list in the morning and then head over to the West Ashley Chick-fil-a after the lunch rush to talk to Al (the only other distinguishing feature of the Chick-fil-a where i apparently had a job). I’d then pick up the groceries on the way home and hopefully have work the next day at a job with $40 a week less profit and no dreads, but one where i could start right away. Besides, guaranteed Sundays off ARE pretty nice.
I never made it to West Ashely. I was putting the finishing touches on my grocery list when Sonic called. I got the job and training is at eight on Saturday. Awesome. I guess i’ll get dreads this summer after all.
Barefoot in the Rain 