By Luke Fatovic
Maybe we’ve had different experiences. Or maybe I just deserve what comes my way. But goodness, does anyone else feel like a ginormous burden to those who work on GW’s campus?
I can point to plenty of recent moments wherein, and I truly believe this, employees have targeted GW students with boundless rage. Well, maybe not targeted, and definitely not boundless… but still!
What first comes to mind is an experience I’m sure some of you will relate to, an interaction at our lovely Western Market Chipotle. I have to believe that their general manager models his customer service practices after the way drill sergeants treat cadets on the first day of boot camp. Their objective seems not to provide the best possible customer service, but rather to strip us of our dignity and subject us to their merciless will. A bit dramatic, I most definitely admit, but behind all jokes lies the truth.
So, back to the incident: It was a chilly fall night – the leaves sprinkled with red and orange – and I had a hankering for some Chipotle. I completed two tests earlier and felt good about myself. Listening to music on my way over, my day could not have been better. As I walked along the glass building adjacent to Chipotle, I noticed how long the line was. So what? I’m in a great mood, I thought to myself, I don’t mind waiting. I opened the door to four 0ver-worked employees and the joy in my soul was stripped away and thrown onto a grease-ridden griddle. The calloused yells of the employees overpowered the music playing through my headphones as I joined my fellow patrons who were lined against the walls like prison inmates. We twiddled our thumbs in a combination of guilt and shame as if it was our fault for having an appetite in the first place.
The bad vibes in the store were palpable. In fact, they were all-consuming. I am not exaggerating when I say that no one was talking – absolutely no one – except for the commands of the employees. “NEXT!”, “BROWN OR WHITE RICE?”, “VEGGIES? REALLY?”. They seemed disgusted with the presence of customers. And it wasn’t as much the things they were saying, while shockingly curt, but rather the tone and attitude in which the words were delivered with. Without an ounce of courtesy – no, in fact, with the utmost amount of indecency – they ushered along the line of hungry patrons. I did my best to get out of there quickly without a hitch, and after a very uncomfortable 10 minutes, I was on my way home.
Another instance that comes to mind was just last week. Upon hearing a steady stream of good reviews regarding the Thurston dining hall, I reached out to a few friends to see if they wanted to check it out. It was roughly 3:30 p.m. – and having skipped lunch, I was excited to check out the all-you-can-eat menu GW had to offer. We entered Thurston through the F street doors into the magnificent lobby (bastard freshmen; live in Madison for a year and then tell me how much you love GW). Anyways, I tapped the card scanner for the stairs that would lead us to the dining hall, when the security guard, who seemed more interested in whatever shit her phone was spewing rather than her job, barked at us: “You can’t go down there it’s closed”. We were taken aback – Why the attitude? I replied with undeserved courtesy, “Well, I think we may just go down to check it out”. She chuckled at us, rolled her eyes, and replied, “Why would you do that?”. At this point, I’m thoroughly shocked at the unnecessary rudeness she felt the need to impose upon a trio of happy-go-lucky college students. But, not letting my inner demon get the best of me, I once more replied with a smile on my face, “Oh – we just wanted to see what it looked like.” We quickly headed downstairs without waiting for her response.
To avoid aggravating any more security guards, we approached the dining hall doors to observe its hours of operation. A lady on the other side stomped toward the OPEN sign, turned it around, and stormed off nodding her head in what I assume was… Aggression? Annoyance? I would say self-hatred but I’m not her therapist. Regardless, what was supposed to be a lovely buffet lunch was tainted by people who couldn’t show a sliver of politeness.
Don’t you feel bad for me? Do you sympathize?* How dare someone who is paid minimum wage not give me, an entitled, private-school attending, 19-year-old freeloader, the respect and service I so rightly deserve? *if you don’t, you are the problem.
What I am getting at here is, no, I am not the victim and neither are you. Sometimes people are plain rude. I was raised in a way that almost no matter what people say or do to you, treat them as if you would want to be treated. The Golden Rule, right? We all passed kindergarten… although that may not be true based on the conversations I’ve overheard in my short tenure at GW…
But think about the people employees have to deal with everyday.
These employees interact with the same students we all bitch about. If you’re reading this, yes, I’m talking to you. You’re not special and you don’t deserve anything. I see students leave their garbage lying around District as if the cleaning lady they grew up with has followed them to school, and walk past facility workers like they’re ghosts who blend in with the gray pillars and stone buildings that constitute our campus. We’ve all watched assholes treat Whole Foods workers like scum, and then complain to their friends about it. And I know all those fucking assholes who’ve thought it would be sooooo funny to destroy exit signs as if their actions don’t have consequences.
What I am getting at here is simple: Stop being so royally entitled and start remembering the implications of your actions and words, and perhaps an overall attitude shift in Foggy Bottom will follow. At the end of the day, the ten-thousand-odd students of GW keep local restaurants, mom-and-pops, chiropractors, street vendors, and more afloat. More importantly, they are the ones working 60 to 70 hours a week to pay the bills, while the majority of our student body galivants around Washington D.C., belittling Uber drivers on the way to Oprah and dehumanizing late-night workers at Crepeaway.
So let’s start treating those who provide such a valuable service to us with the respect and politeness I’m sure we want to receive as well.
Leave a Reply