I was at Au Bon Pain today (which roughly translates to “painfully trying to be French”), and as I was trying to decipher the convoluted process of ordering/self-serving, I saw a literal white-collar man grumble to himself and anyone around him about the eatery’s service.
“Look at them talking behind the counter,” he said as he impatiently waited for the skim milk canister to be refilled. “They don’t know what it’s like to have real jobs.”
Real jobs, sir? These people make your coffee, they bake your bagels, they ring up your order and, most importantly, they take your shit, and they take it with a fucking smile. Meanwhile, you likely sit on your ass in an ergonomically designed chair blabbering on your VoIP phone making things happen that generally have very little effect on everyone’s everyday lives. And for some reason in your scarcely haired dome you have erected a hierarchy that elevates you above others.
At the end of the day, the good and understanding people of Au Bon Pain nourish people, people like you, you ignorant and ungrateful twit. At the end of the day, they can say, “I made this cup of coffee,” and actually hold a fucking cup of coffee in their hand. And some of them probably go to a second job after their time at Au Bon Pain or go to rehearsal or go to school. These people are making something of themselves every bit as much if not more as you. And yet you stand there grumbling to yourself because someone is not refilling your skim milk canister fast enough.
Loosen that fucking tie around your neck, man, and get a grip. Life is fucking short, and your white-collar footprint that you leave here on this earth might be little more than a drawer full of Post-It notes and paperclips, or at best that one day where the company stock ticked up a few extra point above normal. “Man, remember that day on Sept. 27, 2011 when Dave closed that deal in China? Each one of my shares increased by $.05. To Dave!”
I’m not saying you have no right to be frustrated about service. Lord knows I complain like a Jewish grandma. But how dare you attack someone’s job, you douche. May your toilets go dirty, your laundry go unwashed and your kids go uneducated. Maybe then you’ll learn the importance of serving others, regardless of the task.