In Dahlonega, Georgia there is a festival known as Gold Rush during the third weekend of every October. The festival is great, but when you work in town, the festival means thousands of people coming to visit, which means that every employee must work all weekend to accommodate those thousands of people. I am a waitress, but over the weekend I was food running, which is a struggle within itself. So, as my 20-hour working-weekend has finally come to an end, I cannot help but think what Michael Scott would have had to say throughout the weekend.
Going into the first shift of the weekend, knowing it is going to be a very, very long weekend. Thinking of all the other things that need to be done this weekend, but will not get done because you will be at work for ten hours two days in a row. Remembering all the things you need to prep for in the upcoming week, but cannot because you’ll be too exhausted to do so after working twenty hours in two days. But the $10 an hour is worth it… Right?
This describes almost every customer out there, but there are some that are worse than others. Like when you bring food out to a table, and they ask you for more drink, napkins, etc. but you are not their waitress. Or better yet, that table that does not remember who ordered what, so you have to repeat what every item four times, all while the hot plate is burning the skin off of your hands.
A ten-hour shift two days in a row is extremely difficult. Everything hurts – your feet, heels, ankles, knees, hips, and back; everything is throbbing. After you’ve been running around and standing around for six straight hours, to only realize you have four more hours left before you can go home and lay in bed; which is all your body really wants.
After sleeping for maybe five hours, and your alarm goes off again to begin your second day of work. Your body, from the lower back down, is screaming at you to not get out of bed. Everything hurts. You roll over once and wince in pain, but you have no choice. You have to get up and put yourself through more pain.
Then you walk back into work for your second (in a row) ten-hour shift. Realizing that you forgot to take the six Ibuprofen you planned on taking before coming in because your feet, heels, ankles, knees, hips, and back are still throbbing. Even after your wonderful five hours of not-so-restful sleep.
Finally, your twenty-hour work weekend is over. There is nothing else that can be said.
As you can tell, working in the food industry is tiring, to say the least. It is difficult to work such long hours over the span of two days, but someone has to do it. Even though you’d rather it be literally anyone else but you.