A $50,000 paper aeroplane
When you are down in the pits, sometimes you are forced to re-consolidate your ideals and re-think your strategies. And I tell you, the whole thing just really, really SUCKS.
Today, I was browsing through some job notifications and came across a job posting for Waitress/Waiter at some restaurant/bar at Dempsey. Definitely not some fancy Michelin-star worthy eatery, but this absurd snob of a place actually requires a DEGREE HOLDER to fill up the permanent position. Like SERIOUSLY, right? How much of an academic know-how do you need in order to serve up some appetizers or differentiate San Pellegrino from Evian? Are these waiters expected to strike up intelligent conversations with unsuspecting diners about the political unrest in the Middle East, or give meaningful insights on what Obama should do to ensure Democrats’ victory? Or debate on whether Pringles potato chips are really carcinogenic, or give a scientific blow-by-blow account of the Maillard chemical reactions in the steaks on their plates?
Maybe because everyone these days is an ellitist at heart, and we want the best of everything, even the people serving us our food must have a mortar board on their heads and be able to vomit out a periodic table upon request.
It’s almost as if degree certificates are worthless pieces of paper that isn’t even good for ass-wiping, because guess what, Kleenex works better. Fold a paper aeroplane with it and let it fly to The Land of Redundancy.
I’m having a little bit of identity crisis here, because I’m suddenly not so sure anymore. Where does academic hierarchy come into play in the society today? The school dropouts are raking in the big bucks, and the PhD holders are driving taxis. Read this, wouldn’t you? And did you know, Richard Branson sucked at school, but today he is worth USD$2.5 billion? It is as though everything is just purely a game of luck. So what do we do now? Should we even bother beautifying our report cards, because I could have used those time to make some friends. Who knows, that acne-faced geeky guy who sat beside you in third grade could be the next Bill Gates.
I am a control freak. I hate it when I can’t figure things out.
Job hunting is seriously making me very, very emotional. But no, I do not regret quitting my job because at this stage, I figured that being frustrated is better than being insane.
I am keeping myself a little more mentally occupied by picking up piano again after a 10-year hiatus, and hopefully on the way to acing that Grade 8 examination. Something has got to turn out well.
Anyway, on a chirpier note, tomorrow we are going to try out this place called Once Upon A Milkshake. I will be back with some reviews! (mehh.. on second thoughts, better not promise too soon)