September 4: Do You Have a Pen?

Maybe I'm the wrong person to be writing about this sort of thing given my position in life. It would be one thing if I had an admirable position of status but I don't. My opinion doesn't really count for anything, but I am always flummoxed by the lack of effort that is often exercised by job applicants.

Being back to work on "light duty," I have the distinguished honor of leading group upon group to vacant tables throughout a bustling dining room with a stack of menus and a warm smile. I also have the pleasure of standing at the front of the house in my black attire to welcome each guest as they push and shove for the next available table.

It is the latter in which I see an attractive blond-haired girl arrive and ask the head host for an application for employment. Seven o'clock on a Saturday evening. Upon receiving an application and a menu to use as a surface to write on, she proceeds to sit in the one vacant chair (usually reserved for guests waiting to be sat in the dining room) in the lobby. Dressed in a black tank top, black slacks, and black sneakers, it's clear she came straight from another restaurant. Was she fired? Did she quit? Whatever it was, she obviously doesn't understand the demands of a restaurant staff at seven o'clock on a Saturday evening. Oh, and we wouldn't happen to have a pen for her to use, would we?

I get it. Working in this particular industry isn't the most ambitious of positions, but you obviously need a job. Would it kill you to act professional for your first impression? Am I professional when I'm at work? No. I'm probably the least professional member of the staff, but I still wore a decent shirt and tie when I applied. Not only does dressing up look professional, but there's something about a necktie cutting off my air circulation that tricks my brain into making me act professional for a future employer.

Although I never leave my home without a pen in my pocket, the idea of attempting to fill out an application without one is just plain silly. I have yet to make words appear on a piece of paper with the powers of my mind. Again, professionalism. You want a job? You want to be perceived as a person that is capable of performing a simple task? Bring something to write with.

In between seating groups of people, I watched this girl with the restaurant's pen fill what position she was applying for and what salary she expected. (How I wish I could have seen her answer.) I waited for her to return the application to our head host only to be told to return Monday afternoon when business would be slower. I couldn't wait to see her expression when she realized she had just wasted half an hour.

She stopped writing. She stood to return the paperwork. Before she made it to the front desk, she was intercepted by none other than the restaurant's general manager. The head honcho. She was sure to get the "come back later" request. Instead, he pulled her aside and asked her about her qualifications.

Maybe I'm the wrong person to be writing about this sort of thing given my position in life. I'm just a waiter with an education from a private university. Before tonight, I never would have applied for a position without at least a tucked in collared shirt and my own pen. Maybe that's my problem. I should be applying for jobs in my pajamas and with a week's worth of facial hair. After all, I'm just the idiot with the menus.