Peering through the plexiglass barrier at the faces of hungry customers, I often wonder if they realize the narrative of my workday. This is not just Miss part-time job (아가씨알바); it’s an anthology of human interactions, fleeting moments of kindness, and a little adrenaline-laden drama. Welcome to ‘Behind the Counter’.
Chapter 1: The Subway Sommelier
It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon when he walked in. Clad in an immaculate suit that seemed out of place in the subterranean eatery, he scanned the menu with the scrutinizing eye of a connoisseur. “Can I get a Sauvignon Blanc with that BMT?” he mused. My eyebrows rose, partly out of surprise and partly out of sheer confusion.
After explaining the nuances of our ‘beverage’ offerings — coke, diet coke, Sprite… he settled on a water. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it seemed to be what he could fathom in this cerebrally simple setting. I smiled as I concluded the transaction, recognizing that even a lunch hour wine enthusiast deserves a momentary escape from the hustle of underground life.
Chapter 2: The Lost Change Debate
One busy lunch rush, I handed back the wrong change. No big deal, I thought, I’ll just correct it. But the customer was adamant that the extra dollar was theirs by right. I stood my ground, refusing to shortchange the till or the next customer. The debate was a polite one but escalated in the customer asking for the manager.
Normally a frazzling experience, the manager arrived and, after a moment of ‘customer is always right’ defusing, managed to signal to me to correct the cash. I was defeated, for the till’s balance’s sake, but a subconscious win was the standing ovation I got from the regular customers who’d seen the debate unfold.
Chapter 3: The Free Cookie Compromise
A little girl burst into tears when her Subway cookie dislodged from its paper wrapper and tumbled to the ground. The wail attracted the attention of the mother, who insisted on a replacement. Before I could intervene, my kind-hearted colleague had already sprung into action, providing both a replacement cookie and a tissue for the little girl’s tears.
An organic smile bloomed on her tear-streaked face, her sorrow forgotten in the sweetness of her sugary redemption. These small victories, the ones we create, not from the menu, but from a sense of empathy, teach us that a service job isn’t just about serving food; it’s serving the human spirit.
Chapter 4: The Robust Rush Hour
It was a Friday night, and the subway station was buzzing with life. Orders kept piling up, and we dashed between the stacks of bread, mounds of lettuce, and reservoirs of sauces. The adrenaline and the laughter among the team were contagious, and despite the chaos, there was a rhythm to this madness.
Each sandwich was crafted with care, each wrap, a tightly sealed bundle of culinary delight. The minutes melted into the night, and we operated like a well-oiled machine — efficient and unwavering. The clock struck midnight, and as we finally closed up shop, we were exhausted but exhilarated, proud of the storm we navigated.
Chapter 5: The Tale of the Mysterious Scent
Sometimes, it’s the sensory experiences that etch a memory. Amidst the aroma of freshly baked bread and the tang of various meats, a mysterious scent wafted through the store one summer afternoon. It wasn’t the ‘smell of the day’ as we joked; it was something floral and almost whimsical.
Curiosity piqued, we investigated. To our collective amusement, the source was a customer’s rather fragrant perfume. It was a reminder that even away from the dinner table, we appeal to people’s senses, however unintentionally. And there was a kind of magic in that, something ephemeral and utterly human.
Chapter 6: The Golden Customer
We all remember our first ‘regular’. Ours was a spry gentleman in his eighties, who visited every day, ordered the same sandwich, and regaled us with tales of his youth. His joy was infectious, and his anecdotes — nuggets of a bygone era — were treasures in our mundane workflow.
He reminded us that a fast-food joint is a backdrop to countless individual stories. His ritualistic visits were a testament to the comfort of constants in an unpredictable world. He left an impression on us as profound as we hope we left on him—a gentle encounter with the past, kindling hope for the present.
Conclusion
Every shift at a part-time job is a mosaic of moments, each trivial yet essential in its own way. They remind us that our hourly wages don’t just buy our time but entitle us to a front-row seat in the theater of humanity. I’ve learned that sometimes, when you’re behind the counter, the food is just the garnish; it’s the unseen interactions that leave you satiated, the behind-the-scenes stories that feed the spirit. Food service isn’t just a job. It’s a story unfolding, day by day, sub by sub.
