Personal Narrative: A Teacher's Worst Job

The burger restaurant across from the movie theater was bustling with loyal patrons eagerly awaiting their chance to devour scrumptious food. Friday nights were exceedingly difficult for the staff — especially when popular movies debuted. Vanessa tried her best to accommodate the customers in an expeditious and amiable way; however, the high volume prevented her from providing the excellent service she desired to attain quality tips. She told herself multiple times that another job would eliminate much of her stress, but procrastinated when opportunities became available. Besides, with tips, she was pulling in $18 an hour (not bad for a college student).

As the night was coming to a close, Vanessa approached her locker and gathered her personal belongings. Just then, the shift manager, Julie, barged through the employee door with a frantic look on her face.

“Vanessa!
“This is what Julie was probably going to tell me, before she got distracted.”

Without wasting another moment, Vanessa dashed through the kitchen towards the main dining area. She veered to the left, approaching the first of five doors. Without hesitation, she swiftly locked the door and made her way to the next one.

Speed was imperative, otherwise, the alarm would go off, triggering a call to the police and an embarrassing situation — possibly putting her employment in jeopardy. The second, third, and fourth doors were locked with relatively ease, leaving a single door in the far corner of the restaurant. As she approached the final door, she stepped on a menu that had been left on the floor, causing her to slide into the corner of a nearby table — rip – and face first into the ground.

Luckily for her, the carpet absorbed much of the impact, leaving no visible bruises; unfortunately, she soon realized that her skirt had been torn substantially. To the point that it would not hold up without the support of her hand bracing it into