It sure does, Aimee. It sure does. Let me make it even worse for you: that oh-so-horrible Starbucks job that nearly snapped your soul like a rotten twig? The ones that caused you permanent mental scarring, apparently? Yeah, about that… ten bucks an hour, eight guaranteed hours a day, two ten-minute breaks in addition to the half-hour for lunch… wow. When I worked for the Scotsman I got a half hour for lunch, no other breaks, and made just barely above minimum wage. For seven years.
Shorter Moe Lane: piker.
(Via AoSHQ Headlines)
PS: I especially enjoyed this bit, in a vicious sort of way:
Just as I was tempted to remind my coworkers that they were new once, too, I wanted to tell customers that I was way over-qualified for this job, and hoped they’d see me on the street in normal clothes, not in khakis, a black T-shirt, bright-green apron and baseball cap.
There’s just something entertaining about watching somebody else writhe in self-induced shame because strangers might see her as being one of those people.