Essay on Waiting at Greener's Restaurant: Job Interview or Something Else?

It is 8:00 am, and I am seated at the reception bench waiting to be alerted by the receptionist to get inside the office and meet the manager of Greener's Restaurant. On the other end of the bench are two boys who look slender but clearly older than me. I ask myself whether they are also here for the administrative secretary job that was had been posted by the restaurant two weeks earlier. After waiting for more than thirty minutes, I decided to approach the receptionist and ask whether or not the manager is in his office. Before I open my mouth to speak, the receptionist, who has been glued to a newspaper on her desk looks up to me, seemingly surprised. Before I startle, I hear my voice asking, "Excuse me, is the manager in today?" Without blinking, she asks me whether I have an appointment and respond, saying that I have come for a job position that was had been announced. Before saying anything else, she asks for my CV, which I hand over to her. She tells me to wait like the rest before she vanishes into the manager's office. When she comes back, she overlooks the other boys and calls me by name to go and see the manager.

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As I knock on the door, the manager calls me by name and tells me to come in. On top of his table are a couple of CVs but mine is in his right hand. "Sit down," he tells me. After a momentary silence, while going through my CV, he asks me what I know about secretarial work. I tell him that I have worked in an office as an intern at a family clinic while I was in high school. After a moment of silence, he asks me when I can report for the job. I'm surprised but manage to tell him that I can start tomorrow. "Then you are hired, report tomorrow at 8 a.m.", he tells me. "Thank you, Sir," I tell him, but he rubbishes the formality telling me just to call him John.

Tomorrow I report at the restaurant fifteen minutes before the stipulated time. When the receptionist comes, she ushers me to my new office adjacent to the manager's office. On my table is the job tag and my name is already written on a wooden desk. "Welcome to your office," she tells me. Before I settle, she informs me to follow her so that I can go and meet other workers in the restaurant. We start by the kitchen in which I meet the cooks dressed in neat uniforms waiting for me with warm smiles on their faces. Before I can utter a single word to them, I feel a tear threatening to drop from my left eye. I cannot remember anywhere I have been welcomed in this manner in my eighteen years of life. As I blend in, the receptionist whose tag I have just seen with the name Rachel written on it, calls me to go meet coworkers of other departments. We move from sales and marketing to human resource, then accounting, and telecommunication department until we come back at the administration. When we finally get back to my office, John comes in and welcomes me informing me that Rachel will take me through the job details. Twenty minutes later, after Rachel is gone, I swing on my chair as I draw a sigh of relief, wondering where it all began. I still cannot believe how an 18-year-old like me can hold the office of an administrative secretary, a position I was sure to miss.