Thursday, October 8, 2009

I Resign

Dear Money in all forms and uses,

I resign from ever using you again. You cause so much pain and angst, whether it’s from having too much of you, or not enough. Sadly the former is rarely the problem but too little? Many have all too much to do with the latter. I was lucky, I’ve never had to worry about either. I resign from slaving away twelve hours a day, six days a week in a city that has no minimum-wage laws and is not customary to tip. And for what? Four dollars and fifty cents of you an hour. It’s not right. I’m sick of all the rude people, serving tall fruity drinks prone to being knocked over, handling massive goblets of beer. I’m done picking up ripped up wet coasters off the floors and seats, I refuse to pick up another snot covered napkin or drool covered toothpick. I’m finished with having burned finger tips all the time from all the hot plates I’m serving. I’m sick of always being covered in sweat and grease. The thought of refilling another mustard bowl makes me sick. I got to quit all that, something known as “college” came up. What really gets me though, not limited to just the people I personally worked with but the fact that people don’t have the choice to quit when going gets tough. It bothers me that people actually need you, people need you enough to work for so little of you.

I never really thought about you before I took this job at “King Ludwig’s Beer Hall”. I had plenty of you and didn’t think much of it. Even through all the service trips to impoverished places like India and Mongolia, of course it affected me and I would write a paper or two about how seeing these places really changed me. But before I knew it I was back in my comfortable life with lots and lots of you around. It really wasn’t until I got this job that I saw how ridiculous of an idea you really are. No one treated me any differently because I was a rich kid. I was the “new guy” and everything that entailed. I got to know all the people I worked with. One day while Ling and I were drying burning hot plates of, Ling asked me where I lived. I told her. She told me she lived in the same area. Turns out she meant the housing projects near by, not “Bel-Air”, the luxury apartment complex I call home. Work is hard and I got to quit if I got fed up. What can ling do? She’s got a daughter to feed. What did I do to deserve all this? What did I do to be blessed with so much of you?

My shift is over, I’ve closed the restaurant up and am ready to go home. I tear off my uniform and head to my car. I drive by the same people I had just worked with waiting for a bus. I don’t want them to see me, they might treat me differently. After all, there is a 95% tax on cars in Hong Kong. I’m not trying to sound like an elitist, that I’m better than them. I’m just so confused. I knew I wasn’t going to last at this place and I was fine with it. I just couldn’t comprehend how to all the people I worked with, this wasn’t a choice. They had to last. Ling got sick one day and went to the doctors. Not only did she have to miss work (therefore less of you), she had to pay a ridiculous amount for all her medicine since being a waiter at “King Ludwig’s” doesn’t offer too many benefits. So either way she was getting screwed. If I’m sick, I’m staying home. Milking it for all its worth, why not? I get to miss school, I get to miss work. Did Ling? Hell no. She couldn’t afford to since the medicine set her back so much.

So I’m fed up with you. You create such inequality and such gaps in society. It’s wrong that I have this much of you and Ling can’t even miss work because her medicine has already set her back too much? Of course Ling doesn’t complain, she wants to go jogging together sometime actually. C’est la vie right? It is what it is. Being NONE of you is one thing, but what about just not having that much of you? So there it is, I’m done I resign from ever using you or any form of you.

Sincerely,

Will

2 comments:

  1. Will,

    I thought your writing was colloquial and fun to read. Money sucks and you made it easy to connect with what you were saying. You defiantly defined your standpoint: you are done with money and all the problems it causes, not just for you but for everyone. Two other standpoints could be the rich who love money and would never want to resign from it, or the poor who don't want to resign but want it more than anything. You are the middle guy, the guy who has it but doesn't want it. Its cool that you have your own experience working and realized how much work it takes to make minimum wage. Could you imagine living off what you made from that job, like your friend Ling? Shit that would suck. You could also explore the importance of money to different groups of people and how whole lives can revolve around it. Because you resigned from money and not a group or stereotype it might be hard to find evidence to support the moneys standpoint but I guess you could make it up? It could be kind of interesting. Just some thoughts...
    See you tomorrow,
    Juliana

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  2. You're I Reisgn was pretty powerful and well written. I liked that you had a good example, Ling, that a lot of people can relate to because she represents a major part of the world. From one standpoint though there are a lot of people who earn their money and rightfully deserve it. Then again there are lots of people who take advantage of other people and the amount of money they have isn't justified. Then there's another group of people, the "Lings" who work and work and work for small pay and there isn't anything they can do about it. We can't quit from money unfortunately, but I think we can quit from the way we distribute and deal with money? You could maybe "resign" from the unfairness of money/distribution instead of money itself.

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