My New Job At Burger King

I have decided to go look for a job at Burger King, because at least then I would receive adequate training. They probably even have corporate training videos that I could watch in the manager's cave-like office that smells of greased pickles.

I'm not sure who to complain to about this, but my children did not come with instructional videos and I really don't feel like washing dishes that seem to breed every time I turn my back and that I sure as hell am not getting paid to wash.

At Burger King I would be trained to serve people crappy food, but damn, would I be trained well. The manager, let's call him Ronnie, would be in his late-thirties. He's wanted to be the manager of this particular Burger King since he was just a kid, so he takes his job really seriously. It actually hurts him deeply if an employee feels that he did not train them properly, and he's not afraid to make them feel guilty for upsetting him.

But Ronnie and I will get along great. I'm not like all those high school kids who think that this is just a place to make a few bucks on the way to the rest of their lives, oh no. Of course I can't bring the same kind of enthusiasm to my work as Ronnie, but I have a deep appreciation of the important work we all do here.

Of course the thorough employee training is a huge attraction, but there are other benefits as well. For one thing, no one breaks two glasses in a single day at Burger King because they have cleverly eliminated glasses all together. Brilliant.

No one knocks over the lamps at Burger King and then pretends they have no idea what happened, this is because the lamps are tied to the ceiling. I am thinking of stealing this idea for my home actually. Don't tell Ronnie, he might feel it was his duty to report me to corporate headquarters.

Also (and I'm guessing here because I don't have the statistics handy) I'd be willing to bet that children and kittens don't regularly pee and poop on the floor at Burger King. Oh sure, there might be the occasional accident, but I can smile sympathetically at the poor mother of the unfortunate toddler as I clean the floor with my over sized mop because, hey, it wasn't my toddler. Besides, I will be getting paid to clean that shit up.

I can offer the same exact smile for the following: screaming children, crying children, unfuckingbelieveably whiny children, and children who are served food and then refuse to eat it. My calm and sympathetic demeanor will be absolutely zen. Ronnie will probably want to promote me to assistant manager, but unfortunately he already promised the position to eighteen-year-old girlfriend Veronica.

But this too is okay, because I don't want to be a manager, in fact, part of the attraction of my new job is the total lack of responsibility. I know Ronnie tells me I have an obligation to make our customers happy, but I don't have to balance the books, keep the fridges in the back stocked with an assortment of meals and snacks, wash every one's uniforms, or clean the whole place all by myself without so much as a thank-you. Ronnie will always say thank-you.

Maybe if my children had come with a few of the benefits that my new job includes I might feel differently. But as it is I think that everyone will be happier if I am happier, and so I have decided to leave my family and work 12-18 hours a day at Burger King. I think I will be a more relaxed and balanced individual and I'm pretty sure that if I am relaxed and happy, I will be a better mother as well.