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I’ve always said that if you can be a waiter/waitress, you can be anything. This probably won’t be Obama’s education slogan but that doesn’t deter it from being true. Serving ignorant, uneducated, ungrateful, guests and the little demons from hell they call children is not only difficult on the mind and body, its soul crushing. Especially when you spent four years convincing yourself that taking “Politics of the European Union” at college would help you become a millionaire one day. College… what a joke.
- Please refrain from saying “Yes, I’m starving, how long till the food will be ready?” when I ask if you’re ready to order, otherwise, my response will be “depends on if you want it cooked or not”- this leads to dirty looks, my spit in your broccoli and a big slash through the line where it says “TIP:”
- If you ask me if the food is spicy and I say yes, please don’t say “how spicy”, I am not your taste buds, nor was I aware that there was a metric scale of spice for frozen food that we “cook” in a microwave and call gourmet.
- Please don’t ask us to bring your drink out when the food is ready because I’m not a clock and cannot perfectly calculate to the nanosecond when your fiesta lime chicken will be ready, your drink might be 3.5 minutes late… deal with it asshole.
- Don’t bring a date to dinner and ask me how much everything costs, it makes you look like a cheap bastard and you DEFINITELY won’t get laid that night.
- I don’t care if your child is 14 days old; if they are the sixth member of your party you will be charged gratuity.
- This leads to my next point, I don’t care if the receipt says gratuity optional… It’s not.
- The word is “shrimp” people! Not “shrimps”, it’s already plural. You would know that if you passed the fifth grade, which the average guest did not, thank you American public school education.
- Asking if there is alcohol in your Long Island Ice-T is completely unacceptable, just because you can’t taste it, doesn’t mean it’s not there you fucking alcoholic.
- My manager has a GED while I have a bachelor’s degree, good luck when you ask “can I see your manager please”
- Last but certainly not least, to quote the movie “Waiting”- “Do not FUCK with people who handle your food”, if you didn’t know that by now, you have what’s coming to you, don’t say you haven’t been warned.
Over worked, unappreciated and underpaid servers all over America
The word success is defined by Webster’s dictionary as: (noun) A favorable or desired outcome. The idea that each individual regards success in their own terms is generally accepted by the masses. There are however, certain mile stones that one must meet in order to be viewed as successful, depending on location and socioeconomic status. Although I was not raised with a silver spoon in my mouth, I was afforded luxuries that have helped me to achieve all that I have today. One thing my parents relentlessly instilled in me was the idea of hard work and never feeling “too good” for any job. My father always said, “Success doesn’t come over night, it takes perseverance and determination to get there, always take pride in your work”. That lesson is something that has always stayed with me.
These lessons came especially in handy during tough times, post-graduation when it seemed like I, along with the rest of the world had trouble landing a job. I knew that it was no time to rest on my laurels. I swallowed my pride and walked into everyone restaurant in a 5 mile radius, and applied to any position that was open. I scoured craigslist into the wee hours of the morning, praying for a glimmer of hope. The fruits of my labor have since paid off, but I still pride myself on my numerous unpaid internships, along with serving boneless wings to every munchies crazed patron in the tri- state area. Thanks again for that 4% tip asshole.
By no means has my struggle been a unique experience to most of my peers. By American standards, I have achieved success for my age, I’m college educated and learned the intrinsic value of a dollar, mostly because I spent the last year earning only about 5 of them per hour. I have struggled, and accepted that although I am qualified for half of the lucrative positions I am now getting rejected from, as if life. Like my father always said, “you don’t deserve a job, you earn a job”. Although this type of struggle is regarded as admirable in western culture, I find that this story is somewhat of a joke among my certain people in Bangladesh. When applying for a job which shall remain nameless, a family member of mine laughed and asked why I would apply for such a low position. My blood boiled as I wanted to scream about the 10% unemployment in America and how we all have to start somewhere. Not everyone was groomed and bred to take over as CEO for their father’s trillion dollar business venture, yay for nepotism. I know I will catch a lot of grief for that last statement, but someone had to say it. I am well aware that many of those individuals are deserving of the prestigious positions that they are appointed to; however there is no denying that their lineage played a part in that. I respect the idea of taking care of your own and parents who work hard to make sure their kids have more than they did; I hope one day to do the same as my parents have done for me my entire life. I however, respect even more the idea of parents who encourage and inspire their children to take pride in their work and to truly understand how lucky and privileged they are. In no way is my story about making it out of the gutter to gain acknowledgment and success (although that would give me some street credibility), it is the story of someone who would rather struggle and make it, than have it handed to them. My definition of success, is reaching your goals but on your own terms.
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It’s been brought to my attention that some people are misinterpreting and misconstruing the articles on Uptownminds.com. Keep in mind, that although these stories are based in fact, they are taken from my life as well as those of my friends, colleagues and especially enemies It’s not rocket science folks, its sarcasm. This blog is meant to make you laugh. So while you wither away at your 9-5 desk jobs which make me want to jump off a cliff, just remember we’re here to entertain you. If you’re offended by the content me and my co-writers express…STOP READING, no one’s forcing you. Just remember! “Don’t hate the playa, hate the game”.
Ever text something to someone and feel as though you couldn’t be more clear in your intentions, yet the person’s understanding of you is tenser than a biochemistry text book? I now understand why they say, “don’t flirt via text”. Here’s my list of no-no’s so the man or woman, or both whatever, I’m a Democrat, of your dreams, doesn’t think you’re a complete moron (even if you are).
- When putting yourself out there romantically, don’t write LOL after every text. It’s pretty much equivalent to a nervous laughter and that’s not sexy to anyone.
- If he/ she doesn’t respond right away, don’t jump the gun and assume their ignoring you, people don’t always wait by their phone every minute of the day. Unless you own an iphone 4S, love you Siri!
- Stop looking at your phone every 45 seconds after sending a text, it’s very unbecoming.
- Text’s move in sequential order. First I send a text and you respond or vice versa. It doesn’t work when I sent 4 texts and you send one back saying “haha”
- If you’re always the instigator of the texting conversation, STOP. Someone once told me, “don’t make your presence known, make your absence felt”. I might have actually seen that on a bumper sticker, next to “Honk if you love Jesus”. So we’ll just make this rule, a maybe.
- If you’re only getting one word answers in response, then your crush is probably with their crush, move on kiddo.
- Lastly, if someone really likes you, it won’t matter how stupid you sound in your texts because to them you’ll always be cute.
So before you throw your phone off a balcony like I did two hours ago, keep these rules in mind and best of luck. Happy texting folks!
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Recently I took it upon myself to extend my stay in my beloved home land from a brief vacation to a mini move. As my four month excursion continues on I like to keep my friends in NY informed on my travel anecdotes. Like it usually does in my friend’s circle, the topic turned to men. “So, how’s the dating scene over there” and in my mind I thought “what dating scene?” Everyone I knew was either, already married, getting married or recently married. All of this ranging from the ages of 21- 30. Apparently in Dhaka after 30, unless married, you have entered an alternate universe where no one gives a shit about you. It’s like survivor for single people, or being chosen last for dodge ball, but instead of being a loser for a 20 minute game, you’re a loser for a lifetime. As an observer of cultures ad rituals, I am fascinated with the way marriage is viewed in the two places I consider home, Dhaka and New York. In a given day in Dhaka, there are over 30 weddings. It is not only a big celebration, but a big business. Salons and parlors are filled with brides, bridal parties and others, getting ready for attending multiple wedding events in one evening. Clothes are bought, jewelry is set, and the price tag attached to this event, doubles that of the sum of 1,000 average Bangladeshi citizens. With all this being said, the sanctity of marriage is still upheld in Bangladeshi culture. Divorce rates are incredibly low, and people seem to understand the work that goes into it. Marriage is merely a stepping stone, the catalyst to future success you will go on to achieve in your life. This notion is however very different to the American mentality on marriage. Most young adults I talk to, view marriage as some distant event, like death, that they will eventually surrender to. Marriage is viewed as something which is the end, the end of fun, the end of dating, the end of independence. Of course, the big D (divorce) exists everywhere, it is still disdained in this part of the world, therefore it is not as easy as saying, “you left the toothpaste cap off, I want a divorce!” Maybe I’m wrong, but I’d be hard pressed to find a 25 year old Law student in NYC dying to find his future bride, more than likely he’s dying to find his conquest for the night.
So its been roughly a week since I left NY. And although I’m not etirely prepared to be away from my home for six weeks, I welcome the challenge. Some of you might be puzzled as to why I refer to my vacation as a “challenge”, but then again you’ve clearly never been to Bangladesh. Now don’t get me wrong, I truly adore my family and culture more than anything in the world, and I know that deep down they mean well…but my God do they have a funny way of showing it. One must have a thick skin to withstand the level of criticism they potentially face from extended family and in many cases, complete strangers. I realize that my weight, accent, blonde highlights and other “American” qualities will be up for debate at my expense, but feel comforted in the fact that it will make for great reading material.