Once upon a time I worked in a catering job which was feeding over three hundred barely-speaking-English children three times a day. Basically, a lunch lady. We would usually have a few options for the meals, and the conversation which I would have around 900 times a day would go like this:
Me: You can have this, this or this.
The kid: Dis, dis and dis (excuse me, but that‘s how they‘d sound).
Me: No, no, you can have this, this, or this.
The kid: Dis, dis and dis.
Keep in mind, these kids were there to learn English. I guess such complicated words as „or“ are not included in the curriculum. Also, I just realized I am far more patient than I give myself credit for.
The first few hundred times it would kind of be endearing, but after a while, I stopped bothering trying to converse with them and would just give them whatever we had the most of. There were always one or two kids in the camp that spoke decent English, and food being the only thing I had any plausible power over meant they were well overfed their whole stay. I would feel guilty if I didn‘t know the kids usually left around two thirds of what they‘d taken on their plates.
My favorite quote from that experience goes like this: "‘xcuuuse meee, can I have sum woter pleeeeaze?“. (Somebody please put it on a photograph of a sunset or something, it‘s very inspirational!) Gotta love the Italian kids, that job would‘ve been far less enjoyable without their input.
But working in England versus working in Lithuania is a whole different story. While people in the UK sometimes are rude, and the kids sometimes would be bothersome, it usually would more often be endearing or amusing rather than anything else.
I really hate bashing my country for everyone to see, but while it undoubtedly has beautiful nature, amazing history, cool language, and the prettiest seaside, the fact is that a lot of people that live here are not the people I would like to share my origin with.
Thing is, working in a waitressing job is the best way to actually see people for who they are, because your position grants them some power over you at the moment of the interaction. As far as my experience goes, most of the people are plain horrible. I wish that what I am about to tell you were a single instance, but this has happened far too often.
I worked as a barista/sort of a waitress, and when I was doing my sort of a waitress part of the job, I would sell pastries. Which we would put on plates, and if you ask me, that‘s already overdoing it, seeing as the place wasn‘t really fancy. So somebody buys two muffins or something alike, and I put it on one plate. This is followed by a horrified expression and an exclamation that two persons are going to eat that, we need separate plates! Um, for muffins. Because you know, otherwise it would be unsanitary. Also, can I have a fork? Guess everybody in Lithuania just secretly has blue blood in their veins and I‘ve been left out of the game. Or maybe it‘s that one twenty-fifth part of the Polish blood poisoning my perception.
Anyway, aside from people refusing to believe that I honestly just know how to say „I don‘t speak Russian“ in Russian, never saying thank you and looking at me funny when I smile, nothing more terrible than that would happen. I would also have one or two customers a day who would actually be nice, and at that point I would nearly cry happy tears and want to hug them, but apparently, that‘s inappropriate (just kidding you guys, I actually have issues with personal space, don‘t hunt me down and hug me if I don‘t know you).
What‘s the moral of this story? Oh right, don‘t mess with a person who writes. Also, the person behind the counter is an actual person, and not your personal robot maid. Confusing, I know. But it gets better and in the future, waiters won‘t have a compulsive need to spit in your whatever you‘re having.
Buh-bye!
