Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Serving in Florida


      “Serving in Florida” is Barbara Ehrenreich’s account of her experiences while working various minimum-wage jobs in Key West, Florida. She was a waitress at both the Hearthside and Jerry’s, and also attempted housekeeping at a nearby hotel. Of the three jobs, Barbra lasted longest waitressing at Jerry’s. She worked long, grueling hours and earned meager wages, but still barely had enough money to pay her bills. Fortunately for Barbara, this life was not her only one. She was actually a journalist who lived a comfortable lifestyle, and only partook in this lifestyle as research. 
       I can relate to Barbra’s feelings while working at Jerry’s because I have also worked at a totally dead-end job that paid close to nothing. Only unlike Barbara, I actually needed the money that the job was providing me. Two years ago, I spent the entire winter working for the Brooklyn Aces hockey team. The Aces were a bit less than professional, and the management team definitely reflected that. I felt like I had been the only person hired to do the jobs of several people. I did everything from carrying heavy boxes of merchandise, to selling tickets, to picking up trash after the game was over. My responsibilities seemed to include everything short of driving the Zamboni across the ice.
  Like Barbara Ehrenreich, I eventually came to my breaking point. In “Serving in Florida” Barbara quit her job at Jerry’s after a hectic night. There was only one chef on duty, and she had four demanding tables full of people who sat down at the same time and demanded her undivided attention. The stress of the day had become too much to handle for her, and she decided that she had had enough. Similarly, I had returned home one Friday night after work stressed and too exhausted to go out for my friend’s birthday. Like Barbara, I decided I had had enough. I quit like she did: silently. There was no dramatic confrontation that most people expect from quitting a job. She had just walked out in the middle of a shift, and I just never returned to the slave-driving Brooklyn Aces.  

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