I spent the weekend helping out the Hot Dog King, but maybe it was a case of the Hot Dog King helping me out, instead. It's been a mutual admiration society we've been running for awhile now. Both of us being foodies and fans of the Three Stooges is a plus, but having a pal who is also unemployed AND a natural born hustler makes it even better.
It wasn't rocket science running that cart, that's for sure. Basic mathematics was required for counting cash. Customer service skills I have in spades. Watching the number of dogs in the wells, well, that was easy, about as easy as fishing them out and applying toppings according the wishes and desires of my patrons. It was the waiting and the thinking inbetween customers that made it tedious at times. Otherwise it was fun and easy, and that, my friends, is what work should be all about.
I stood there, under the eve of the Sedgewick Albertsons, soaking in the strange balminess of the weather, the pleasantness of the customers and the comraderie of a pal. The work I was doing this weekend gave me a different kind of thrill than the satisfaction I get when I work at Helpline. It was a different kind of fatigue at the end of the day, too, a delicious sort that said to me that I worked, not just for the sake and survival of the community, but this time, for it's pleasure, too.
It was an ephiphany, then, for me, to discover what it was that work really meant to me: a bit of delicious fatigue at the end of the day delivered up because I spent the day entertaining, nuturing and participating in the growth and well being of my community. If only work in my profession could be as simple, easy and as fun as serving up that humble dog.
It wasn't rocket science running that cart, that's for sure. Basic mathematics was required for counting cash. Customer service skills I have in spades. Watching the number of dogs in the wells, well, that was easy, about as easy as fishing them out and applying toppings according the wishes and desires of my patrons. It was the waiting and the thinking inbetween customers that made it tedious at times. Otherwise it was fun and easy, and that, my friends, is what work should be all about.
I stood there, under the eve of the Sedgewick Albertsons, soaking in the strange balminess of the weather, the pleasantness of the customers and the comraderie of a pal. The work I was doing this weekend gave me a different kind of thrill than the satisfaction I get when I work at Helpline. It was a different kind of fatigue at the end of the day, too, a delicious sort that said to me that I worked, not just for the sake and survival of the community, but this time, for it's pleasure, too.
It was an ephiphany, then, for me, to discover what it was that work really meant to me: a bit of delicious fatigue at the end of the day delivered up because I spent the day entertaining, nuturing and participating in the growth and well being of my community. If only work in my profession could be as simple, easy and as fun as serving up that humble dog.
But, you know, applying topping to wursts is not where I am going. The destination remains a mystery, somewhat like the ingredients of those dogs I was slinging. And that mystery will continue up until the day my ship comes in, and that day, children, is the day I set my hot dog tongs down.
Salud!
Salud!
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