Memories of Working on Thanksgiving
An ode to the life of a teenage cashier.
This is a response to Turkey, Football, and Early Shopping?
Ever since I turned sixteen, I've had a job at least part-time. I'm not sure why I was so eager to work looking back- I rarely spent the money I earned as a teenager. My paychecks sat around in my savings account, untouched for years. I guess that was smart of me, even if I didn't realize it at the time.
I had a few stints as a grocery store cashier- first at H-E-B, then at Whole Foods. Years later, I can still remember what it felt like to work on Thanksgiving.
Being one of the younger workers, I had more freedom with my schedule. I didn't need or particularly want to work holidays, even with coveted holiday pay on the table, but I did it to help out and make a few extra bucks. At Whole Foods, we were paid double our hourly salary of $15. And $30 an hour was way too good of an opportunity for a broke college student to pass up.
From store to store, the experience was much the same. Lines that wound throughout the aisles, shortages of pre-made turkeys and sides, countless interactions with customers until my brain felt numb. And, surprisingly, a feeling of camaraderie.
The break rooms were stocked with Thanksgiving treats, from turkey and stuffing to slices of pie. My manager at Whole Foods bought everyone who showed up for the early shift a free caffeinated drink- I chose a fancy Yerba Mate. We bundled up in beanies and jackets, racing from the turkey truck in the back parking lot to the line of customers eagerly awaiting their pick up orders. Guests slipped us tips, and thanked us for working on the holidays.
This isn't a defense of working on Thanksgiving, or of low hourly wages, long hours, employees forced to spend time away from their families. But it is a reflection on the surprisingly fond memories I have of an otherwise mundane time in my life. It's a reminder that joy can be found, even in the most common places and hectic situations.
